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#but i remembered this quote from way back when and I couldn't get it out of my head
aidaronan · 1 year
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The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.
Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.
He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.
Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.
He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.
Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.
Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.
He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.
"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."
"Which was?"
"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."
"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."
"That's really nice, Eds."
Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"
Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.
He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...
He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.
He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.
He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.
It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.
"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.
Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.
He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."
"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."
Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.
"You made this whole thing?"
"I did."
"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.
He nods. "For you."
"Why?"
There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."
Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.
"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."
"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."
"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.
"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."
Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.
"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."
"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"
"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."
Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
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Fake It Till You Make It - CL16
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The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
Fake Dating turned real dating trope
6.3K
For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family
ROYAL MESS
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In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.
When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."
"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.
It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?
Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare
Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.
"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."
Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.
For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.
Henri was at his wits end.
He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"
"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.
"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.
Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"
Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.
But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.
Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.
He had to do something, he had no idea what.
There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.
Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.
This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.
Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.
This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.
In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.
At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.
He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.
As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.
In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.
But then then was Charles Leclerc.
Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.
"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.
The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.
Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.
Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."
The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.
Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.
"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."
Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."
It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."
Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.
Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.
Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.
There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.
It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.
It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.
He picked it up and read through his messages.
Charles Leclerc
I'm in
***
It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.
They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.
So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.
Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."
"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."
"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."
"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"
Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."
Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"
Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."
She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.
That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.
Henri’s head fell into his hands.
For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.
He was a complete control freak.
For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.
That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.
But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.
Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.
As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.
Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).
Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"
She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"
But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.
He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.
Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."
Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.
So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"
Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.
It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.
The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.
Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.
Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.
The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.
She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.
With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.
"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."
"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.
Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.
***
Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.
The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.
Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.
Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.
"I know," she answered.
It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.
She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."
"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"
Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.
They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.
It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.
During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.
"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.
Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.
"How did that happen?"
She just pretended not to hear him.
This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.
She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.
Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.
Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.
As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?
"I live near here," she said, looking at him.
Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.
"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.
"But what do we have to gain from that?"
That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.
"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."
Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.
"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.
Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.
Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."
She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.
"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.
But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.
"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."
"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.
Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.
When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.
So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.
Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.
So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.
"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.
Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.
She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."
Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.
There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.
***
There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.
When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting
CL16
what do you want your contact picture to be?
Please don't make it something embarrassing
Oh come on, Charles
I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you
okay i take it back
oh god
look at this little guy
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you were so cute
what happened?
Hey!
I'm still cute!
The ladies love me
sure they do, sunshine
She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.
But Henri certainly did.
The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.
"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."
But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."
Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.
"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"
She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"
It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."
Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"
That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.
Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"
Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.
The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.
Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.
They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.
When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.
As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.
"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.
They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.
They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.
Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"
"I... Just thought..."
"Well you thought wrong!"
Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.
The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.
OFF THE RAILS
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Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.
Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.
But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.
Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.
She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.
She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?
Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.
So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.
Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.
Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.
Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.
Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.
Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.
That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.
When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.
After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.
When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.
The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.
When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"
"Your brother told me you're not doing good."
"So?"
She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.
But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."
Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.
The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.
"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.
She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.
Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.
And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.
"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."
Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.
He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."
But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.
Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."
Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.
When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.
"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.
But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."
"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.
They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."
Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."
One step at a time.
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wineauntie · 4 months
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I DON’T KNOW WHY I AM, THE WAY I AM — the hughes brothers x hughes!sister reader
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summary: when things go south, hughes!sister reader finds herself needing her older brothers more than ever.
PART ONE HERE
note: I didn’t expect part one to get so much love and support but I’m so grateful for it, thank you and enjoy part two <33
warnings: fem reader, reader is the youngest, use of Y/N, reader has a mild panic attack and it’s alluded that she has anxiety. Reader puts everyone else before herself. Reader also has self deprecating thoughts and blames herself for a lot things.
word count: 2.1k
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"The fine line between roaring with laughter and crying because it's a disaster is a very, very fine line."
You couldn't quite recall where you'd read the quote, nor could you place who had once said it...but perhaps it could offer an explanation as to why you were simultaneously hysterically laughing as horrid sobs wracked through your body.
This whole situation was comical!
Hilarious, in fact.
You'd ruined a perfectly good dinner and everyone's good mood all for the sake of, what? A pity party for your own inner envy? A chance to berate your family? Remembering your outburst as it replayed through your head made your stomach churn and pull in all sorts of directions, forcing you to choke on another sob as you curled yourself up tighter into a ball on the wooden floor beside your bed.
It had been five minutes since you'd fled the scene of your crime and you'd barely been able to keep your emotions at bay until you'd finally shut your bedroom door tightly.
You'd already caused enough issues tonight, best not to add to the problem as your emotions peaked.
You hadn't meant to ruin everything, it had just all built up and now?... now it felt even worse than before. All the emotions you'd been repressing all summer seemed to spill out so easily once the rage had broken through the gates to allow a clear passage for everything else to filter out.
You hadn't been able to register the heartbroken faces of your brothers and parents in the heat of the moment but as their faces flashed before you now, that's all you could see. Your mom and dad had looked devastated and Quinn and Jack looked so concerned and you'd...you'd just ignored it!
And Luke, oh, his face when you'd snapped sent you into another fit of broken laughter as you cried. He hadn't meant to cause you to burst, he'd just been the unlucky one to speak at the wrong time. All he'd tried to do was help you, and you'd practically shoved it right back at him.
His crestfallen face haunted you.
A knock broke through the room and before you could call out, your bedroom door slowly crept open. Your hands quickly brushed away your tears, trying to hide your upset as a pair of footsteps slipped into your room and shut the door behind them. You felt them lower themself to the ground to sit by your side, their hand on your arm.
Quinn let out a little sigh as he let you try to cover your red-tinged eyes from him.
"Hey," He began, his head tilting towards you. His greeting was met with ashamed silence, as you struggled to keep more tears from bucketing down your face.
"Look, no one's mad at you," he started cautiously, his eyes flitting carefully around your face. His words were exactly what you needed to hear even if you didn't want to absorb them. Your tears which had been successfully stopped we're now threatening to spill over onto the cushioning of your cheeks as he pulled you into his side, your head burying itself in his shoulder.
"I don't know how to fix this, Q..." you stammered, your words broken up with staggered breaths. "I was so horrible and—"
"Stop," Quinn cut you off, "you weren't horrible or wrong to say what you did. You have to stop beating yourself up about it."
"But I usually know how to fix everything!" You sniffled through your rambling. "But I can't figure out how to fix myself or fix this big mess. No matter what you say, Quinn, I was awful and Mom and Dad tried to just help and I was a brat to them-"
Your words ended with more cascading tear drops as Quinn gently ran a hand up and down your arm trying to soothe your breathing which was beginning to get more rapid by the second, despite your eldest brother's reassuring words.
"Y/N, listen to me, you're going to work yourself up," Quinn stated as calmly as possible, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd helped you through a situation like this, he'd helped you countless times and he would do it countless more if he had to. "You need to slow down and breathe...come on, in and out,"
You nodded quickly as you tried to quash the rising swell of panic whilst you focused on your breathing.
The familiar sensation of a panic attack was slowly fading as your brother continued to coach you to breathe. You'd had these 'moments', as you called them, every once and a while, when everything got too much, and too hard in too little time. The world would cave in, your elbows pressed against an invisible, airless box as you fought to break free. In this box everything swirled in a tornado of alarm; every thought, every whim, every word a flurry of fear designed to target your very being.
You took a sudden and deep breath in, your eyes swimming with tears as you attempted to steady your breathing as much as possible.
"Atta girl," Quinn briefly smiled as his grip on you loosened. He glanced towards the door before concentrating on you once more. You squeezed your eyes shut and leaned into him as the remainder of your panic began to ebb away.
After a few moments of silence and steady breathing, Quinn began to speak again.
"We should've noticed how miserable you've been, hell, I mean I noticed this summer but I just thought...no. There's no excuses." He stopped himself as he trailed off.
"I'm sorry," You sniffed, "I didn't mean to cause a scene, I just...I'm so tired, Q, I'm so tired."
"You always bundle everything up inside when you don't have to," Quinn hummed as his hand brushed over your head, sending a wave of comfort through you.
"You should've just told us,"
Both, you and Quinn's heads snapped towards the door where Luke and Jack stood quietly. Jack, who'd spoken, stepped forward and took the space on your other side, his legs stretched out ahead of him as he fixed the hat on his head.
"We could've, uh, stopped, y'know?" He continued, clearing his throat as he looked at you. "Didn't mean to make you feel left out and we should've gone to more of your events."
"That was selfish of us," Quinn added, looking between Jack and Luke, who both nodded in agreement.
"You're not selfish," you mumbled, looking down at your hands which were fidgeting on your lap. "You're just busy. You all have your own lives, I can't expect you guys to be at everything, I'm sorry I threw it in your face."
"Stop saying sorry," Luke scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed as he moved around the room. You bit your trembling lip as you watched him pick up a few trinkets lying on your dresser.
"I..." you looked at Quinn and Jack in slight bewilderment, before focusing on Luke again. He moved closer towards the three of you before crouching down in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. "But I am sorry...to you especially, I blew up on you– all of you actually, and you guys were only trying to help me."
"Stop," Luke repeated himself, "Listen, look, we fucked up here. Stop feeling sorry." He didn't bother to look at Quinn and Jack, his eyes solely on you. Luke's sincerity caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but stare into his eyes, searching for any signs of resentment. Instead, you found a mix of concern and understanding. It was as if he wanted to convey that your feelings were valid, even if your actions were flawed.
You and Luke had always been close. You were the closest in age and it came as no surprise that you two were always thick as thieves in your childhood and yet you'd never seen him be quite as careful as he was right now.
"We all have our moments," Luke continued, his voice softening. "But now that you've let it out, let us help." You gulped and nodded half-heartedly, dropping your head to your chest.
"I don't know why I'm like this," you slowly confessed with a croaky voice whilst a shaky hand ran through your hair. "It's all so..." You paused and waved your hands around before they fell back to your lap. "...and I just feel so stupid."
"I always thought you were part robot, honestly" Jack chuckled, earning hums of agreement from your other brothers and causing you to let a small smile cross your features. "You're human, Y/N, congratulations, we all have our breaking points, and it's alright to reach them sometimes," his eyes widened before he rushed back into the conversation. "–as long as you let us help, of course."
"Look, we're here and we'll figure it out." Quinn supplied as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, while Jack offered a genuine smile. "We don't want to make you feel as you have ever again."
As you absorbed their words, a gentle wave of gratitude and relief washed over you. It wasn't fixing everything immediately, but the reassurance that you didn't have to carry the weight alone anymore made a world of difference. You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sudden shyness creep over you.
"I appreciate you guys being here...saying all this," you admitted, your voice steadier. "I let things just build, and I convince myself that I can handle it all on my own, but I don’t think it worked for me this time."
"Stubbornness runs in the family, doesn't it?" Quinn chuckled softly, "But around here we share the load."
"Ew," Luke recoiled with a look of disgust, earning a brief melodious laugh from you.
"Not like that, idiot," Quinn scoffed and reached forward to whack Luke over the head.
"Strange that your mind went there, Lukey boy," Jack joined in on the teasing, nudging the boy with his foot.
"Alright, alright," Luke huffed as he rolled his eyes and settled cross-legged on the floor.
You found yourself caught in a strange mix of emotions. The laughter and tears that had been at odds earlier now seemed to blend into a bittersweet symphony. The camaraderie and support from your brothers were a soothing balm for your wounded soul. It was as if the disaster you had unleashed earlier was being slowly pieced back together, not perfectly, but with a promise of conclusion.
With a small sigh, you finally let go of the tension that had gripped your body, allowing yourself to relax into the makeshift circle of comfort your brothers had formed around you. The room felt warmer, the air lighter, and the fine line between chaos and resolution became a bit clearer.
"I needed to let it out...I needed this to happen," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "I am sorry about the execution, but sometimes, it's hard for me to see beyond the mess."
"That's what we’re for, right?" Quinn reassured, exchanging glances with Jack and Luke. "To help navigate the mess."
"Yeah, like, y'know, sometimes it takes a breakdown to experience a breakthrough," Luke spoke, still seated on the floor, tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Pack it in, Einstein," Jack teased, earning a playful shove from Luke.
"Yeah, yeah," Luke grinned, his eyes flickering with a rare vulnerability. "I've been paying attention, y'know."
The room filled with a light-hearted atmosphere as your brothers continued their banter. It was a strange dichotomy—just moments ago, you were drowning in a sea of self-loathing, and now, you found solace in the warmth of your siblings' presence– a solace you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in a while.
Luke's eyes softened as he caught your wandering gaze once again, a silent understanding passing between you two. The air was completely clear between you and him. It was a relief to know that beneath the chaos of the evening, there was a foundation of unwavering support on his half which allowed for the knots in your stomach to gradually loosen.
"You're not alone in this, Y/N." Quinn leaned in, ruffling your hair affectionately. "We've got you…always."
"But I should go talk to Mom and Dad, shouldn't I?" You spoke up, looking at your brothers nervously. "I feel bad that I just left them there."
"What did we just talk about?" Luke poked your leg, "No feeling bad is allowed and I know that Mom and Dad don't want you to feel bad, they just want to see you be yourself again." You nodded and took a shallow breath in before letting it out. "Now bring it in team!'
Luke grinned as he flung himself towards you, landing on top of you, his arms outstretched to drag Quinn and Jack into the somewhat embrace, crushing you in the chaos.
"Luke—" you choked out, your eyes wide as Jack and Quinn struggled to get loose from Luke's chokehold.
"You love me, I know!"
"Yes, but please get off...I can't breathe!"
I hope you guys enjoyed this, I have a bunch of other imagines on the way ranging from more hughes!sister ones to ones based on the boys themselves 🫣
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leonsbunny · 3 months
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Baby I'm Yours ♡
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( RE2r!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || baking cookies but not getting much done because ur bf is very very sleepy || this rookie is trying his best ♡ re2r fluff for anon ♡ )
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“Leon,” you chuckle, smiling as your eyes peer down at the bowl of batter he was supposed to be mixing. “You're mixing the air, not the bowl.” You point out, gesturing down to the bowl. He was still mixing the air, spoon not near the batter. Not by a long shot. Leon seemed out of it, head in the clouds all droopy eyed. Just what was he thinking about?
“Hey! Hey! Leon, I'm talking to you!” You say, waving your hand in his face. You knew working at the RPD was stressful, endless amounts of paperwork, and all that, but was it really that stressful enough to make Leon sleep while standing up? In the kitchen? Of all places?
Leon blinks, realizing your hand is in his face. “Oh shit, sorry.” He quickly apologizes, yawning softly. “The senior officers are just…too much for me.” He says, his focus on mixing the batter in the bowl in front of him. He sounded tired and looked tired, too, if it wasn't evident by the sleepy look in his eyes. “They're just peachy, aren't they? Been in the force too long?” You joke, trying to lift the mood.
“Don't worry your head, Scotty, they're just old geezers too long in office - probably rode dinosaurs or something to school.” You add as you shrug. Leon snickers, almost dropping the spoon he was holding in his hand.
“If Chief Irons heard ya you'd be dead meat, one of those stuffed animals he has in his room - it isn't the stuffed animal you're thinking of, by the way.” Your grimace at what Leon was implying, whatever it was, it didn't sound too pretty. “Oh god, do you mean..?” You trail off, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. Leon seems to brighten up, amused by your reaction. “Not the cute kind, definitely.” He chuckles, placing the mixing bowl to the side.
“The type you'd find in a museum. I don't know why he likes those things so much. He sure is peachy.” Just like you said, Leon agreed wholeheartedly. He didn't want to admit it, but he had a habit of soaking in whatever vocabulary you threw at him. Leon was regurgitating whatever you said in a sweetly, somewhat mimicking way. Like the way he quoted movies. Lucky you, even if you didn't notice it at all. Leon remembered the little things, or, at least, he tried.
“I finished mixing the batter…” He trails off, staring blankly at the bowl of dough like he was trying to see his own reflection in it. His blues gazed into the wheaty dough like he was trying to peer into a mirror. He, of course, couldn't. “What are we making again?” He asks as he peers into the bowl. He tilts his head. Maybe if he looked at it sideways, it'd make sense?
“Raspberry danishes, your favorite, remember?” You reply, taking the bowl from him. “Just sit pretty on the couch, okay bubba? You deserve a break.” You say, kissing his cheek. He looks up at you, eagerly nodding his head. Leon kind of wished he had a mirror now. He could feel his cheeks heating up as soon as your lips pulled away from his cheek. Bubba? That was new.
He glanced at the living room, then back at your face. You looked as though nothing had happened. As if you didn't just kiss him on the cheek.
Leon turns around, padding to the living room without saying a word. Besides a small mumbling ‘thank you’. He wasn't a monster, after all. He had manners.
He traces over where you kissed him, still the green behind-the-ears rookie he was back at the station. Even when it came to love. Especially when it came to loving you. You seemed to remember the little things, too.
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stupidlovergirl · 1 year
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TL;DR He's HOT! In which you get caught gushing about how into them you are, by them
Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan,Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dateables Version not edited
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"What do I like about Lucifer?" you repeat back. "What is there not to like? He has a pretty good fashion sense, a mature vibe also-" you kept rambling, naming qualities you like about the eldest demon, from his physical qualities to his personality. 
He honestly couldn't believe his ears. He had just come to drop off some documents and ask questions. He didn't suspect that you and Diavolo would be talking about him, much less what you supposedly liked about him. The list must be quite great, as you have barely taken a breath and kept chattering off things.
"To sum it up, Lucifer is one the hottest men I've met. Mature with the just right amount of playfulness. Not to mention easy on the eyes" you finish, love sick look in your eyes
He stopped and waited before appearing a little while after. Diavolo could tell he heard, by the smug smirk he wore. You felt awkward, I mean you were literally JUST singing the man's praises. Giving the documents to Diavolo, Lucifer chatted a little before saying goodbye.
You immediately got called to his office after you came home. Man literally started quoting what you said as you rotted away in the chair in front of his desk. Don't worry, he's just having his fun before he tells you the feeling is mutual.
Mammon catches you talking to Asmo about him on one of your spa days. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop! Honest! You were just kinda loud and he could hear all that you were saying about him through the door.
“Have you SEEN his eyes Asmo? They are the prettiest shade of blue! Ugh, and his hair is so freaking soft. I have never been so in love. He can rob me blind as long as he just keeps smiling. I am so down bad. AND ANOTHER THING-!” you said, going on another tangent. 
Mammon is blushing sooo bad. He is so pumped you like him back! As you should, he IS your first man!!! He has no preservation instincts, so he yells in victory, fistpumping the air. Asmo gets on to him and they have an argument about how he needed to learn to stop that. You, on the other hand, are trying to hide.
Mammon kidnaps you (against all of Asmo's protest) and tells you that you should feel that way about him! He is the Great Mammon after all, your first man! He also stutters out that he likes you too. 
Leviathan does not know how the stars aligned, but he heard you and Beel talking in the kitchen. Well, you were talking as Beel scarfed down the entirety of the fridge and pantry. (He's hoping that his rainbow pizza is a survivor).
"He is just so dreamy, Beel. I don't know how he doesn't see it. His sunset eyes, his devotion to his games? Ugh, and when he goes on his nerd rants? Be still my beating heart!!" You exclaim dramatically. 
Through a muffled mouth of food, he hears his younger brother reply 
"Just tell him. I'm pretty sure he likes you back" 
"He's like a wild animal! Can't approach him to fast or he will run away!! Ugh, but I wanna kiss him so baddd"
He squeaks at that comment, quite loudly. The two of you come out of the kitchen, but Levi is GONE. He might have given away someone who was listening in, but he will not get caught.
Later in the week, he invites for an anime marathon, and makes it very obvious he knows. Just tell him there, he'll freak out, but accept anyways.
Honestly, it was your fault for talking about Satan in a library, especially quite close to the mystery novels.
He was looking for a novel, when he heard you and Mammon talking. He recalls that earlier in the week you two got in trouble for low quiz scores, so you must have been forced to stay here for so many hours.
"Ugh, he is so cute. I love him sooo much. He is so cute when he plays with the cats in the street. He looks so at peace and comfy I lose my mind. Not to mention, his ability to remember things? Iconic. He is the only reason I pass history. I have never felt this way before! I think Satan is, like, my perfect match."
"Good for you. Did you find a cheat sheet online?" Mammon replies boredly.
"I don't think Lucifer would appreciate you not even attempting the work, Mammon" Satan replies, startling both of you.
"Satan!" the both of you yell, in shock.
"H-how long have you been there?" You ask nervously. Oh, how cute is all Satan can think.
"Long enough"
He ignores it till Mammon and you finish your work, with his help of course. He tells you the feeling is mutual, and that he appreciates all the compliments.
Asmo was running late. It was usual, beauty takes time you know! It's also tasteful to be fashionably late, keeping suspense up. He does feel a little bad, as it is Solomon and you kept waiting. It was a cute new café that he had seen all over Devilgram, and just knew that the three of you had to go together.
He was about to yell out for you two, but he saw you passionately talking about something so he decided not to.
"He is just so pretty, Sol. Do you ever think he would be into me? He is completely out of my league, but maybe there's a small chance?? I could be, like, his funny little significant other who hypes him up!! I think Asmo would appreciate that, don't you?"
Solomon, who had noticed Asmo approaching, just shrugged. 
"I dunno, you ask him" is all he says, pointing at the object of your affections with a smirk.
Asmo is soooo happy!!!!! You and him are gonna be the prettiest couple to ever exist, and he tells you that right then and there. He announces that you're dating right on the spot, as you and he both obviously want to. You three have a good day out, and when you go home, Asmo spoils you as you both talk about how the other one is prettier.
Beel had just gotten out of a shower after a workout. He, you, and Belphie had a movie night planned. Aka, Beel gets snacks, Belphie sleeps through the entire thing, and you get to see something you have wanted to for a little bit while hanging out with the twins. It was a perfect win-win -win for all three of you. You and Belphie we're doing prep(you were while Belphegor slept the whole time) for when he came back in their room. So, when he heard you giggling in their room, Beel couldn't help but smile.
"He is so perfect, Belph! He cares so deeply for everyone, and is so kind. I dunno if I ever met such a sweetheart before. I think I should go for it, but I don't know. I figure I should ask you how he feels since he is your twin"
"Go for it" is all Belphegor replies with, sleep obvious in his words. He hears you laugh again, and then decides to open the door.
You look a little pale, and Belphie looks a little smug. He probably heard him coming down the hall, with his better hearing.
"Hey! So I thought-"
"You really feel that way?" Beel ask.
"Oh! You, uh, heard that. Yeah, I really do"
Ecstatic, he smiled so big when you said you were serious. Puppy boyfriend aquired baybee!!!!!!! You two watch the movie while holding hands and cuddling as best you could. Belphie appreciates you two being together but he's not giving up the best cuddle spot to indulge you two.
Belphie, Satan, and you had a scheduled Anti-Lucifer League meeting. The plan was to move everything in Lucifer's office half an inch to irk him. Belphegor had fallen asleep, so he came in a little later than you two. 
"He is so cute when he sleeps Satan! He literally acts like a cat! When he snuggles his head into my stomach I lose my mind!!! I might be reading into it too hard, but I think he might also like me back? Maybe I'm delusional, but it seems like it! I like Belphie so much, he makes me crazy"
"Criminally insane, crazy does not fully describe how in deep you are" Satan replies boredly, like he had heard this rant time and time again.
Belphie, is of course, happy. You like him! Him! Oh man, this is such a good day. He obviously acts like he doesn't know anything when he enters the room. You look awkward, and Satan is tired. After a day or two, he brings it up. He wanted to make you feel like he hadn't heard you. He makes fun of you for being so down bad, but accepts your feelings and tells you he feels the same. He might not show it, but he is also so into you it almost hurts.
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yanderehsr · 7 months
Note
Hope you have a wonderful day! The quote “Always the bridesmaid never the bride” stuck in my head and prompted the idea behind this request
Can I request yandere angst Zhongli x adeptus reader. With this context in mind: the reader has a big crush on zhongli due to him saving them from danger but Zhongli was in love with Guizhong and was ignorant of teh reader’s infatuation with him. The reader was always there for him patiently listening him vent about his emotions and even giving him good and helpful advice when Zhongli asked them about how to court Guizhong. But as we all know Guizhong unfortunately dies leaving Zhongli heartbroken. Even during his darkest moment the reader was always there for him lending him a willing ear or doing small things for him such as taking careof his work. But years go by and Zhongli is.. well he is now living among the people of Liyue and focus on making it prosper that accidentally ignores the reader’s obvious feelings for him. So after years of being push aside and also out of respect for Guizhong the reader just stops pursuing Zhongli romantically and avoids him, going out of there way to avoid him so that they no longer feel the pain of a broken heart. What would Zhongli do when he finds out that the person who stuck by his side amd whom he thought of a very close friend was in love with him? And to what lengths would he go through to get them back again.
-Thanks for reading my request!
Took some time but finally found motivation to write, I decided to go with female reader for this one, hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive at the end
Someone would need to tell Zhongli about your previous crush for him to know of it, someone like Ganyu or Cloud Retainer. It shocks him, he had never thought of you like that, it makes him think about it.
Zhongli remembers how you used to listen to his frustrations, helped him with own crush on the now deceased Guizhong, you were always on his side no matter the situation, to spend his life with you, it honestly didn't sound all that bad, it sounded lovely really.
And that is when Zhongli takes notice, he hasn't seen you for a couple of years, when did you distance yourself from him, were where you now. Maybe he should go out and search for you tomorrow.
He searches for days, weeks but he can still not find you, it's almost like... like you are avoiding him, no no that was impossible, you liked him right, he thinks of the smile you always wore and how beautiful it was, he truly was a fool for not noticing earlier.
When Zhongli finally finds you again he can feel his heart beating in his chest, you look just like you used to, every last deatil as it had been a millennium ago, he hugs you from behind, he has finally found his love, he doesn't hesitate to confess and he was sure you would accept, you loved him afte-
"I'm sorry Morax, but I have moved on and so should you"
Zhongli goes real quiet upon hearing that, he was so sure of your answer but you are here telling him you have moved on, nononononono, this can't be happening, you were supposed to be with him, you loved him right, you were supposed to be his mate forevermore.
The lack of response from Zhongli makes you turn around and the sight is one to fear, his eyes slit as a snake and he looks at you with possessiveness in his eyes, markings of geo formed on his arms, something was behind him, it couldn't be a tail could it?
The ground shook, even without his gnosis he still had unbelievable strenght, he closes in on you as you struggle to even stand, he can't loose you as well, he needs to tie you down to him, but how.
Zhongli hugs you, unbothered by your struggling he came up with an idea, he would transfer you to an adepti's abode, where you will be given his first time, pump you so full of him that it would be impossible for you to not end up with children, his children. Zhongli loves you so much he almost can't wait.
"Mine, you are mine, it was my mistake for not realising your love for me until it was too late, but I'm sure I can make you love me again MY mate"
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notiddygxthgf · 23 days
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Boyfriend | Aki Hayakawa
★ pairings: aki x f!reader
★ synopsis: being aki's favorite girl has many perks.
★ a/n: i couldnt stop thinking about boyfie!aki omfg... brainrot.
★ c.w.: fluff, nicknames, smut(ish). no beta we die like... ahem.
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1. He's thoughtful!
Aki is notoriously attentive when it comes to his line of work, but nothing compares to how attentive he is when it comes to you and your needs. He can read you like a book. It's just something about those eyes of yours, something about the way you look at him that tells him all that he needs to know about you -- he's got you all figured out.
When it's a party or a work event, he can see your expression a mile away. You would be perched in the corner, anxiously swirling your drink around. He'd reach an arm around you, pulling you close enough that your shoulders would bump into his chest. "Do you want to leave?" He'd ask. And how could you refuse -- when he made it sound so tempting?
He'll remember little things about you -- the shows you like, your favorite foods, your favorite fabrics to wear. His brain is like a little notepad, full of facts about you. When you're having a particularly, bad day, he'll bring home a container of your favorite soup from the place up the street he knows you love. He'll treat you to trinkets and sweaters (sometimes printed with the name of the last town he visited on the mission, sometimes they were his) and whatever stupid little thing makes him think of you (seriously, he brought you a rock with googly eyes from a gift shop in Shibuya once because, and quote, "It reminds me of you").
He knows your body like the back of his hand; knows where you like being kissed, touched, caressed, held. He knows you like it's second nature, like you're an extension of himself.
2. He can cook
You're grateful for that, considering that if he couldn't cook, the two of you would have been completely fucked. You're about as gifted in the kitchen as a toddler with a wooden spoon.
It's okay though. He doesn't mind. He loves cooking for his pretty girl. Curry, Stews, Rice, Chicken -- whatever your little heart desires (or whatever he's decided is on the menu for tonight). And he's good at it, too. He's got a real talent for cheffing it up. The kind of talent that makes you moan words of praise through mouthfuls of food while you chow down.
"You like it?" He'd ask, a teasing lilt tinging his words.
"Fuckin' perfect," You'd reply, voice muffled by mounds of food. "You got a gift."
He wouldn't have believed it had it come from anyone else. But for you? He would have to make an exception.
He only wished he could make enough for you to take leftovers. With two ravenous roommates, however -- the kind that scarf down just about everything but the plate -- that was kinda hard.
(Still, whenever he could, he would sneak a few extra servings into some containers to give to you.).
3. Super Affectionate
You love it when he comes home to you. You love it when he collapses into your arms and wraps his strong arms around you, swaddling you entirely with his warmth. You love when he takes you out with him -- takes you shopping, takes you on dates, takes you on grocery runs to get a brief moment of peace from his roommates.
Aki is nothing if not proud of his girlfriend. Though usually quite timid and stoic, he has no qualms about claiming you in public. (sometimes in a family bathroom stall, if it's one of those days). He'll walk around with his hand on your lower back, your waist, your hip, your ass -- whatever he can get ahold of to let the world know that you're his.
It's usually you who initiates the PDA. He's the one who runs with it.
It'll start with a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nose. That's all it takes for him to be pulling you in for more, suddenly rather careless about who sees the two of you. He'll ask you for a kiss. Then another. Then another. Then one last one (it's a trap).
And you, being the lovestruck idiot that you are, you'll stand up on your tippy toes and give him all of the kisses you can muster.
At work parties, you're never far from him -- never out of his line of sight. He said something about his coworkers being "dogs", but you had yet to experience even a double glance in your direction. Being with Aki was like having a bodyguard.
He loves it the most when you sit on his lap. He'll pull you close to him by the waist, hugging your legs from where he's seated. He'll let you entertain his drunken coworkers for a few minutes, perhaps even a few comments from Denji about your looks, and then he'll tug you down to take a seat where you belong (in his lap. no one else's. his lap).
Your pretty face would flush for a moment, stuttering to find the words to continue what you had been saying. He didn't care about anyone else when you were around -- you made him needy. Still, he would hide his blushing face in your neck, your shoulder. Breathe in the scent of your expensive perfume, the scent of your skin that was so uniquely you.
Baby, he'd call you.
Princess, Mama, Angel face.
He couldn't keep the pet names away. It was what gave your relationship away to everyone to begin with, after all. It had been a small meeting with a few Devil Hunters, only two beers in, and you had handed him his third.
"Thanks, Baby," He murmurred, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tilted his head back. His eyes widened the moment he realized what he had done.
"Baby?" Himeno repeated.
"Baby?" Denji echoed.
"Like, an infant?" Power chimed in. Denji went to explain.
Aki sputtered profusely, hurried chants of, "Wait, wait--" leaving his lips. And you would just laugh, letting him feel the backlash from his coworkers.
"You are dating! I fuckin'-- HIC! -- knew it!" Himeno pumped her drink in the air. "You lyin' little shit."
Not like the way he looked at you didn't give it away from the beginning.
4. Way with words
He loves to spoil his girl. Not just with money (although he certainly doesn't hesitate to buy you whatever your heart desires, or to send you a couple thousand to treat yourself to something nice).
He spoils you with his words, with his saccharine tongue that overflows with pretty things the moment the two of you are alone.
"My pretty girl," He'll say. "Only mine. Only for me."
"Only for you," You'll say back.
He has a certain way with words. Perhaps it's the bluntness of it that makes you fall harder for him. He never hesitates to tell you exactly what's on his mind.
It's a whisper of, "I love you," against your cheek.
It's a grumble of, "Want you," while he leaves fleeting touches of your waist and hips.
And God, he knows how to talk your panties right off.
Lips pursed around a cancer stick, he'll breathe out everything you want to hear.
"'M gonna marry you some day," He'd say. "If I don't, I'll die trying."
"I love the way you look in that dress."
"Your eyes look so pretty."
"You take me so well, pretty."
Whoops. Did I let that last one slip out?
Well, then, I suppose that leads me to number 5.
5. Fantastic Lover
Aki is gifted in a multitude of ways. One of your personal favorites? His hands. His hands on your face, your chest, your lips -- his rough grip on your hips while he devours you.
He loves to spoil you with his attention. Sometimes, that means he'll have you clawing at the bed with anticipation before he even thinks about going faster.
"Can't rush perfection," he'd say.
And you'd tell him, "Shut up and fuck me."
He can't get enough of you. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter while everyone is still asleep -- he's addicted to the taste of you whenever he can have it. He loves the way you fall apart around him, around his tongue, hips jumping up to ride his face.
He's told you he'd die a happy man if you crushed him. You think that might be the truth.
His fingers are long and thick -- a little calloused, but none the less gentle as they press against your neck, as they slip into your needy pussy. He works you open like it's his job, effortlessly finding that spongy place inside of you that makes you gasp out for him, makes you clutch at his inky black hair as he leans in to give you an experimental lick.
You love his tongue. Devilish thing he is, he'll eat you out for his own pleasure -- until you're clawing at him, tugging the sheets off of the corners, leaving a trail of wetness on his fingers. He has this way of sucking and fucking you so divinely that you forget your name -- suddenly, the only one you can think of is his.
"Aki..." You'd whine. Quietly, still, but getting a little louder while you crept closer and closer to your peak.
"Quiet, Baby," He would hush you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders while he devoured you. "Don't want anybody to hear you, hmm?"
He'll eat you out until you're begging for more, pleading for him.
And then, if you've been good, he'll give it to you -- all of him, everything he has to offer. He'll pound you so far into the mattress that the next morning, when you get up to eat breakfast with him and his roommates, you can do nothing but avoid eye contact at all costs, limping into the kitchen and sitting down slowly (lest you hurt your tender back, the one he'd blown out).
"Rough night?" Denji had asked you once, munching on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
You swallowed thickly, nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the way you were glancing between him and Aki, whose back was turned to the three of you while he finished cooking.
You scooped some eggs onto your plate, taking a bit onto your fork and shoveling it into your mouth (to give you an excuse to not reply).
But you'd be found out soon enough.
"Sure sounded like it," Power added, tilting her head at you. "Were you injured?"
Aki choked, but disguised it with a cough.
You quirked your brow. "No, why?"
Denji looked up at that, pausing to swallow before he gave his two cents. "You sure?" He asked (teasingly). "We could hear you crying out from down the hall."
You choked on your egg. Aki turned the stove off, whipping his head around to promptly whack Denji on the back of his head with the spoon he had just been stirring up eggs with.
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a/n: hiiii! just a quick little drabble. i've been on a csm craze for the last week! (aki's been getting me through the week long period of grief that follows a brutal midterm week). feel free to request some more (reqs say closed but ill do it for my king aki....) who knows! if u guys like it enough (and maybe beg real nicely) i mightttt do another part (or publish this 45 page aki smut i've been sitting on lololosdjfkg). comment and reblog ur thoughts!! i love reading them.
comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
credits: idk the cover pic artist. If you know them, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.
wanna join the csm taglist?
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DIHWYF Incorrect Quotes but it's mild Carmine sisters chaos
Because ✨sisters ✨
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Clara, staring at newly adopted Vaggie: Um...want a beer?
Odette: She's like...five!
Clara: I DUNNO, WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HER?!
Clara: I'M BREAKING THE WINDOW!
Odette, whispering into her phone: Uh, hi- we locked our baby sister in the car and people are judging us.
Clara, now running around looking for a rock: I SWEAR TO GOD I'M GONNA BREAK IT!
Odette, whirling around: DO NOT BREAK THE WINDOW, YOU'LL GET GLASS ON HER!
Odette: But if you keep making up words, no one will understand you.
Young Vaggie: Clara will. Watch. *tugs on Clara's arm*
Clara: Yeah, squirt?
Vaggie: *complete gibberish*
Clara, immediately playing along: Whoa, are you serious?
Vaggie: *more gibberish*
Clara: I'd never considered that before!
Vaggie: *very serious gibberish*
Clara, patting her head: This changes everything.
Odette, facepalming: You're both crazy.
*Odette, spotting Vaggie trying to sneak out of her bedroom: Oh, not again. Come on, go back to bed before Mamá sees you.
Vaggie: But I don't want to go to bed!
Odette: Too bad, manita.
Vaggie, pouting: Why do I have to go to sleep? Why can't I just stay awake all night?
Odette, sighing and getting up to walk her back bed: Because that's the way the world is.
Vaggie: Well I'm going to make it so that's not how the world is!
Odette, tucking her in: That sounds like a big job. You're gonna need a full night's sleep for that.
Vaggie: Yeah, I will! *triumphantly snuggles in*
Vaggie, ten minutes later: Hey, wait a second-
Vaggie, curled up in front of the fridge: :(
Clara, spotting her: You alright, hermana?
Vaggie, sadly: I just miss Odette**.
Clara, sitting down next to her: Aw, I know.
Vaggie: And the fridge doesn't like me :(
Clara: I...know?
*Odette: Bed. Sleep. Now.
Vaggie, trying to hide behind Clara: But I'm not tired!
Clara: Yeah, 'Dette, she's not tired!
*they're both asleep in Clara's bed in ten minutes later*
Clara, snuggling lil' Vaggie: Big sister's going to drop-kick anyone that touches you 🥰
Odette, without missing a beat: And bigger sister's going to bail big sister out of jail.
Carmilla, cuddling Vaggie after she tripped and fell: I know it's tough, mija. But hey, how many times have you bumped your head or gotten a bruise while you're playing with your sisters?
Vaggie, holding an ice pack on her knee: Um...lots.
Carmilla: Right. And what do they always tell you?
Vaggie: ...don't tell Mamá?
Carmilla, who was fully expecting a different answer: What?!
Clara, who'd walked into the room to check on her little sister: Uh...I'll maybe come back later?
Clara, holding an ice pack to her sister's head: How much do you remember?
Teenage Vaggie, who'd just gotten into her first fight: Just the ambulance ride to the hospital, I think.
Odette: That wasn't an ambulance ride, I drove you.
Vaggie: But I heard sirens?
Clara: That was your girlfriend.
Charlie, clutching the largest teddy bear the hospital sold***: I got nervous!
Charlie, fresh into their relationship: If something happened to Vaggie, I...I couldn't live with myself.
Odette, completely straight faced: You wouldn't have to. Clara and I would kill you.
Vaggie, trying to sneak off with Charlie at a party: Guys, I need your help.
Clara: Oooh, ok. I have an idea.
Odette: Is it a bad idea?
Clara: *darts off in Velvette's direction*
Odette, jumping up to chase after her: CLARA, IS IT A BAD IDEA-****
Vaggie, walking by with a teapot:
Clara: Whatcha doing?
Vaggie: It's for Zestial. I'm planning on making some bad choices tonight and I want him on my side when Mom finds out.
Clara: Oooh, smart. I'll have to remember that.
Odette, not looking up from her laptop: I never realized the forethought that went into raising our mother's blood pressure.
BONUS:
Carmilla, trying to calm Lucifer down after he came to her for advice about Charlie: Look, I've raised three fully functional, well adjusted children and-
Luci, sniffling: You have three kids I don't know about?
Carmilla: ...
BECAUSE I LOVE THEM ALL
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Here's a link to the AU!
*these exchanges definitely took place less than an hour apart.
**Odette is fine, she's just on a business trip and her sisters are sad.
***That bear is not for Vaggie. She has a different one for Vaggie. The older Carmines got her that so she would calm the fuck down
****is this a hint as to how Charlie and Vaggie meet? 🤫
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apomaro-mellow · 3 months
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Hot for Teacher(s)
Part 1/? Read on AO3
Omegaverse modern au where steddie are both teachers. Eddie is teaching single omega Steve's son.
Eddie let out a satisfied sigh as the latest parent left his classroom. Parent/teacher conferences were always a tad stressful, even if there was no tangible reason to be. Most of his kids were doing well in all their subjects. There were only a couple behavioral outliers but Eddie knew that those parents rarely showed up but from professional and personal experience.
The main reason he didn't look forward to these was how selective kids could be with the information they shared. More than once in his years, a parent would arrive with a bone to pick about a problem that was apparently happening in the classroom that Eddie had no idea was occurring. These kids came up to him ten times a day to tell him what their little sister had for lunch two days ago but god forbid they admit when they have a problem with another student.
Today's appointments had mostly been smooth, though. It typically wasn't the quote unquote problem children whose parents showed up anyway. He just had one more person to go and then he could run out the clock fixing up his room until he was allowed to go.
He double checked the name. Shawn Harrington. Good kid. Bright, active, and it sounded like their parent had arrived.
"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."
Eddie looked up to see a total smoke show.
"Hi", he cleared his throat when it squeaked out. "Nice to meet you, come in, have a seat." Eddie had Shawn's folder ready, like the other kids to show any work that should be highlighted, as well as his grades up on his laptop. "So did you have any concerns or worries about Shawn?"
Eddie quickly went in autopilot. It was the only way he was going to get through this. He was going to keep his eyes from drifting to that smooth sweep of this man's hair. He wasn't going to hyperfocus on his pretty lips. He wasn't going to gaze deeply into those chocolate brown eyes. He wasn't going to flare his nostrils to take in more of his scent. And he definitely wasn't going to check his fingers for any rings.
Bare hands.
Very nice hands.
They had a nice, brief conversation about the student's progress, and Eddie couldn't help but give him a glowing review. Even if Mr. Harrington wasn't totally hot, his kid was a wonder at times.
"He listens and pays attention well, always raising his hand to answer questions. If you don't mind me saying so, he just seems really prepared for school."
Which was saying something when many of the other first graders were still asking things like 'do we have to do math?' or 'are we going home today?' Eddie remembered being little and having pretty much no control over his life, so he could relate to the tiny ones still getting the hang of school. But kids like Shawn were a breath of fresh air.
"He did pretty well in kindergarten and I put him in daycare pretty early", Mr. Harrington said. "He gets really excited for school and I can tell he really likes you so far."
His smile could have blinded Eddie. He wanted to gush on just to keep seeing that smile.
"That means a lot, thank you." It wasn't a strong stigma but sometimes people got iffy over an alpha teaching children so young. It was thought they needed the 'gentler' hand of an omega. His eyes drifted back down to Mr. Harrington's hands. Yep, there was no ring there.
Now Eddie would never ask out or even flirt with a parent. That was off limits. But you know, if he got a little creative with his fantasies... well, you can't go to jail for thought crimes.
They said their parting words and Eddie was definitely not watching that ass in those khaki slacks. God, was there anything more cliche than him being a teacher and having the hots for a parent? He tried to keep his mind off it as he fixed up his classroom. He wouldn't even be seeing the guy that much. Not unless something came up with Shawn. And that kid was kind of an angel.
It was Friday, so once he was done, he went home to enjoy his weekend. Come Monday, there was a cacophony of voices. Half talking to each other and the other half trying to both greet him good morning and get right into another conversation. Eddie took it all with a smile.
"Mr. Munson, did you tell my mom about my butterfly!?", Theresa exclaimed, pointing to their bulletin board where their work hung.
"Mr. Munson, I got cheez-its in my lunch today", Victoria said, opening up said lunch box.
"Did you really talk to our parents?", Walker asked, arms crossed.
"Most of them", Eddie answered once they gave him a breath to speak.
"He talked to my dad", Shawn said. "And he said you said I was good."
"That I did", Eddie nodded, watching them as they put their coats and bookbags away. Theresa and Walker were known to fight over hooks.
"Mr. Munson, did you know my dad is a teacher too?", Shawn asked.
"I did not know that. Explains why you're so ready for school."
"Yeah, we practiced", Shawn said as he sat down to get started on the warm up.
Eddie raised a brow, wanting to ask what he meant by that, but his attention was grabbed when there was a shriek and a cry from Yasmin. He steeled his nerves for the day. He would need the fortitude.
-------------------------
When Steve walked into the classroom to meet Mr. Munson, he didn't know what to expect. He regretted missing Back to School Night, but his had been on the same evening and as a teacher, he couldn't miss it. But Shawn had nothing but good things. So he went in with optimism.
And was met with a gorgeous, gorgeous man sitting at the teacher's desk. For a second, Steve was sure he had the wrong room.
"Mr. Munson? Hi, I'm Shawn's dad."
His hair was pulled back in a bun and Steve's first thought was how it must look when it was down. Honestly, Steve couldn't tell you exactly what he had said. His tongue felt twisted the whole time as did his stomach. But Mr. Munson was smiling through it all and hadn't brought up anything bad about Shawn, so Steve must really be selling it.
He wanted to say that Mr. Munson's praise meant the world to him. That it wasn't always easy to bring up a kid as a single omega parent. But that felt too personal for a first meeting. And mentioning he was single would probably be too forward. When it ended, they shook hands, allowing Steve to get just a little close. He caught a whiff of his scent and instantly wanted more. At least enough to pinpoint what it reminded him off.
But he had to let go just as quickly and then leave without lingering. He was NOT going to be the type of parent that made goo-goo eyes at his child's teacher. It wasn't like Shawn needed the leg up and Steve was done with his slut era. So even thought Mr. Munson could definitely get it, he was absolutely off limits.
And if Steve went home and immediately put the rest of the school year's events in his own calendar, that was simply because he was an amazing dad and for no other reason.
Part 2
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https-genesis · 1 year
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deserving child | dad!jake x daughter!reader
Sypnosis; Whatever had your father done before you were born had nothing to do with you today, but Quaritch didn't care. Children or not, you were Jake's.
Contents; angst little comfort, typical avatar violence, drabble? extreme depictions of gore?? Jake's pov, no use of y/n,
Dictionary; sempul - dad/daddy, sa'nok - mother, tsurak - skimwing, kuru - queue, uturu - sanctuary
A/N; I hate this but anyway
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Jake Sully. Failed life on Earth, dead brother. Paralyzed from the waist down, out of service. Sent to replace his brother on a military mission, Pandora. Falling for the forrest, the culture, the people... Neytiri. Even though he had taken everything from her, her sister, her father, her ikran, her people... Neytiri had faith. She fought with him. His beautiful mate... His children. His firstborn son, Neteyam, and his twin, you. Oh, how life had betrayed him. Or had he betrayed life? After all, he betrayed an entire race. Was it unfair? Had he done the good thing, or was he selfish?
Jake still remembers a quote from the Bible he had read years before his 20th birthday. Before his brother was killed on the field.
"For am I seeking the approval of man or of God? And if I am seeking the approval of man, will I still be a servant of grace?"
As Jake sat still onto the back of his tamed tsurak within the seas of the reefs, hundreds of vengeful Na'vi in the same position behind him, he thought back to fifteen years ago. He could've left with Quaritch. Be could've surrendered. Saved thousands of innocent lives and give his own. But he didn't. He chose to stay and fight, but for what?
He could clearly see your distressed faces kneeling and facing him on the Demon Ship. Quaritch and his men held you and your siblings tighly in place and the gun pressed to your temple that digged into your skin harshly.
Jake chose to stay and fight. It brought him here. His children about to get executed right in front of his helpless eyes, unable to do anything but to weep to himself like a coward.
The sound of Neytiri's distressed pleas in his ears made them ring, but he couldn't hear a single word.
Jake could see in his head the faded image of your brains splattered onto the pavement of the ship and for a brief moment he pondered if this was all a dream. It wasn't, however, you were still alive. The choice was his, he knew it well. Would Neytiri even forgive him? Would you? Would Tuk be able to pass her own Iknimaya without her father?
The freezing cold metal pressed firmly against the side of your head burned like dry ice. You had seen your father use similar machinery on the field, but you had never seen it be pointed at someone else. Even less had you thought you'd be the one in this kind of situation. Quaritch had your kuru thigh in his unoccupied hand, pulling whenever your kneeling stance faltered. You could see the outline of Jake, Ronal and Tonowari from your place on the ship and the way your father's eyes drifted from you and your siblings to his weapon. Was he really considering letting himself get captured for you?
Whatever Jake was thinking was passing fast. He had no plan and you knew it. The simple look of despair on Tonowari's face told you everything. You knew not to scream out because the Avatar had warned you when your brother tried.
"One noise and I'll shoot ya', kid."
Kid. You were just a kid. Your brother and sister were just kids. And Jake stared at you like it would be the last time he'd ever do. It was ironic, really. You came to Awa'atlu seeking uturu and had to end up murdering the entirety of its residents.
Jake felt the cold breeze against his damp skin, the breathlessness of Ronal on his right. His children are about to die. You, their big sister, dying to protect them. His babygirl. The one that lit up his life when he felt he was no Olo'eyktan, no Toruk Makto.
Right. Toruk Makto. Jake is Toruk Makto. The sixth rider of Last Shadow, the one who brought the clans victory against the Sky People. He killed Quaritch once. Can he really do it twice?
It's strange to think about it now, but in this situation he wishes he was more of a father and less of a marine. Lo'ak would never forgive him. The way he treated his children like soldiers... The pain he brought upon Neytiri and the people.
Quaritch's voice brings him back.
"Clock's ticking, colonel. What's it gonna be?"
The hand that rested on his gun lowered and Jake instructed his tsurak to swim forward slowly. He doesn't want to die, but he was ready to give his life up for you.
Quaritch did too.
Payakan thought otherwise. The large beast had felt Lo'ak's anger throughout their bond. Payakan had forgotten all about friendship, but Lo'ak had brought him a sense of serenity he had just about never felt before. Seeing red as he threw itself onto the ship, Jake saw the opportunity.
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should I do a part two? seems opportunistic tbh
804 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 1 year
Text
call it what you want to
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. pet names. dirty thoughts. uhhhh that's all? also not sure what trope this is lol but when i nail it down, i'll add it. i'm thinking it's just friends to lovers? frenemies to lovers maybe? idk lol.
words: 3.1k
notes: this was my attempt at writing a stand alone, less than 1k drabble. it did not go well. there will definitely be more lmao. eventually. <3 hope you guys like this, and thank you in advance for reading. as always, feeback and reblogs are more than welcome and are so appreciated! let me know your thoughts :)
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“Fuck!”
Your voice echoed in the hallway of the apartment complex as you stared down at your take out now spilled all over the floor.
“Stupid goddamn key,” you cursed again, the key to your apartment caught in the metal loop of your lanyard. Truthfully, you knew you had too many keychains and this happened every time you had to jingle your keys from your bag. You should’ve set the food down, but you were too impatient to get inside.
While you struggled with your keys, the door to the apartment down the hall opened, the sound of it catching your attention.
You looked over and then quickly away as you saw him. As if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, of course he had to be a witness to the mess that was you for the second time this week.
“Locked out again?” the tall, built brunette asked as he walked down the hall, his brilliant blue eyes set on you.
“No,” you grumbled, avoiding his gaze as you tried to free your key from the lock of rings it had become stuck in.
He stopped right next to you and you took a deep breath as you felt him watching you intently, analyzing the predicament you'd found yourself in. His eyes were on you for too long, making you more flustered than you already were, before they fell to the food laying on the ground by your feet.
He raised a brow before looking back up at you, leaning against the wall beside him, crossing his arms as he examined you further but continuing to say absolutely nothing.
“Is there a reason you’re staring, Mr. Barnes?” you huffed, annoyed.
“Mr. Barnes?” he questioned. “I’m not 80.”
“Could've fooled me," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes, "damn it," you whined, growing more and more frustrated at your lack of success in getting your key unstuck. You began shaking the set of keys from the base of the lanyard, hoping to get it free that way.
He grabbed the keys from your hand with a scoff and you watched as he easily pulled the key out of the rings it was caught in before dangling them in front of you.
You narrowed your eyes as you scowled at him and his obnoxiously smug face. Reaching to snatch the keys from him, he pulled them back right before you had them in your grasp. You could’ve growled with how irritated you were.
“I’m not in the mood, James. Give me my keys,” you demanded.
“James?” he repeated, sounding even more offended than before. "Christ, doll, let's go back to Barnes."
"I told you to stop calling me pet names not more than.. two days ago, did I not?" You shot him another sharp look as he smirked in response.
"Well, I believe your exact words were, 'Bucky, if you call me sweetheart one more time tonight, I'm going to file an official complaint against you with management for harassment'," he quoted you verbatim.
Your mouth parted as you furrowed your brows, you couldn't help how obviously taken aback you were at his apparent perfect memory and he smiled at the impressed look on your face.
"Huh, so you remember exactly what I said, and yet," you tittered humorlessly, "you're still doing it."
"You said nothing about being called 'doll' and your warning was clearly for that night only, so," he shrugged, blue eyes still on you while he simpered.
"Were you not on your way somewhere?"
"I was," he nodded before he pushed away from the wall, beginning to walk past you as you watched him, turning to follow his movements, dumbfounded at his dismissal. “I am,” he finished smoothly as he kept walking.
"The hell you are," you called after him, following him down the hall. "Give me my keys."
"Okay," he said, continuing to the stairwell. You scoffed in disbelief as you followed him through the doors and down the steps.
"Now," you specified as if he didn't know what you meant in the first place.
He seemed to fly down the stairs as he ignored you and you huffed in annoyance, resigning yourself to following him all the way down. When you reached the first floor, he was waiting for you with a boyish grin.
You shot daggers at him as you scowled, putting your hand out, palm up for him to drop your keys into. He looked at your hand quizzically, an eyebrow quirked before he took your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing them across your skin.
Your heart skipped a beat and you embarrassingly felt your breath catch in your throat the moment his eyes looked up to meet yours, the bright blues twinkling as his soft lips lingered on your hand.
It wasn't even a second before you pulled your hand away like he'd burned you.
You swallowed hard, standing straighter as you eyed him.
"Well, definitely gonna be making that harassment complaint now," you said, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his actions and the way his bright, easy smile had your heart fluttering.
"I don't think you'll have to go through the trouble. I'm thinking about moving out next month," he told you.
You felt your face drop slightly as you blinked at the news, a wave of disappointment and sadness running over you. "Oh," was all you breathed.
You both stood there for a moment, a charged silence between you and your neighbor begrudgingly turned, dare you say, friend...
Would he consider you a friend? Did he consider you at all? Of course he did. You'd been hanging out at least weekly for the past almost three months. You were friends. Right?
You forced the ridiculous thoughts away, not needing to dwell on them. It didn't matter.
"You just moved in a few months ago, you're trynna leaving already?" you asking trying to sound nonchalant.
He kept his eyes on you, and you could feel him keenly watching your every reaction. You just prayed he couldn't see too much. You didn't need to embarrass yourself anymore today.
His tongue jutted out past his pink lips before his ever-present smirk returned. "No, I'm not. Just wanted to see your reaction. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a little let down there, sweetheart."
You clicked your tongue, scoffing while you fought a smile as you eyed him challengingly. "Good thing you know better, then."
"Good thing," he nodded as he smiled wittingly at you.
"Can I have my keys back now?"
He took a deep breath in through his nose and out before turning around to continue out the gate and down the street.
"After we eat," he said over his shoulder, expecting you to follow him. "We're going to that Chinese place I was telling you about the other day." He held the gate for you and after a second, you walked out, waiting for him to lead the way. As easy as it would be for you to argue, you were starving.
"You're lucky I'm hungry, Barnes."
You were walking side by side as you felt him look over at you, simpering. You looked over to him in return and despite the brisk air hitting your face as you walked, your skin felt flushed - the look in his eyes causing warmth to rise under your cheeks as your own eyes flitted away, back to the street in front of you. You took a grounding breath.
“Lucky for a lot of reasons, doll. Guess good timing’s one of ‘em.”
"Joe's gonna have my ass if he sees the food I dropped on the floor," you laughed as you remembered the mess you’d left outside your apartment door. Bucky looked straight ahead then, too, unconsciously puffing out his chest as he brought his shoulders back and stood straighter. In that moment, you couldn’t help but admire how built he was, his tall stature and muscular frame. You wondered if he noticed the people who were avoiding him as they walked by, or the ones who ogled him as they passed. You certainly did.
"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it. Just take him up on that coffee date he keeps asking you for and he'll be cleaning it up himself." The normal levity his voice carried when he spoke to you was gone. He sounded...off, maybe a little huffy. You weren't sure why.
"How do you know about that?" you asked.
He took a second before he responded, a smirk gracing his face once again as he looked at you. "Thin walls," he answered, his eyes running up and down your figure as you faltered for just a moment, keeping your gaze ahead of you.
"Thin walls? Or super hearing?"
"A bit of both, maybe," he considered as he walked a bit closer to you. When he took another step near you, his arm brushing yours, you stopped walking, glancing over to him but not turning to face him head on. He leaned into you and spoke near your ear, his breath warm on your wind chilled skin, "You'd be surprised all the things I'm able to hear. Even the tiniest little squeaks in the middle of the night."
His voice was quiet and close and so damn suggestive. It made your stomach flip and sent a tingle through you as you took an unintentionally shaky breath at his proximity.
He leaned further past you and when your eyes followed his movements in front of and across your body, you realized you were standing in front of the restaurant, and he was pulling the door open for you.
When you finally managed to bring yourself to look at him, he was wearing a cocksure smile, while you worked hard to make sure you didn't let your mortification show, tried to play it cool like you had no idea what he could possibly be referring to. But with the way he was looking so sure and satisfied, you must have failed.
You cleared your throat as you turned sharply to walk past him into the restaurant, through the door he was holding for you. The second you stepped in, he was right behind you. You were halted in your path almost immediately after walking further inside as a man was leaving. There was a tight little hallway that led from the front entrance to the rest of the restaurant and you almost ran into him in the tight space, apologizing as you pressed yourself closer to the wall next to you so you didn’t touch him. There was a feeling of self consciousness threating to take over as you assessed the space you were taking up as opposed to that of the people trying to pass you. It was evident, at least in your mind, that you were the problem. You figured it'd be best to just back up out of the hallway and let them walk by without being so in the way. So caught up in your distance between you and the people in front of you, you hadn’t even recognized Bucky’s chest at your back, or your ass unintentionally flush against his crotch until his metal hand gripped your hip when you wiggled back to make room for the new people who were leaving.
You heard his sharp inhale as he held you still and wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t be able to keep embarrassing yourself. You weren't sure if you should mention it and apologize or just act like nothing happened…
“Sorry,” you breathed. Bucky didn’t respond, only squeezed your hip lightly again.
When the people who were leaving were past you, you turned your head to look at Bucky. “Go in front,” you ordered a bit snippy, not wanting to lead the way. You’d never been here and you didn’t know where to go and you were, understandably, already feeling flustered.
“Can't,” he responded, voice tight, urging you forward with his hand still on your hip. Your eyes widened though he couldn’t see before your brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Are you joking?”
“You were just wiggling your ass against me, doll, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. I’m only human,”
“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, either,” you hissed quietly. "I can't believe you,"
Truth be told, Bucky couldn't believe himself either. He had a lot more self control than most, and such a light touch from anyone would never have him this visibly worked up. But the second you grazed against him, he immediately felt his cock stirring. It certainly didn't help that he'd only just been replaying the sounds of your desperate little moans, the ones he hears in the middle of the night along with the soft rumbling of whatever toy it is you use. The sweet sounds float into his room and all he can do it groan and torture himself with the thoughts of you, with the thoughts of one day getting to hear those whimpers in his ear as you wrap yourself around him and not just through the painfully thin walls of your apartment all alone...
He likes to imagine it's a sleek black rabbit. Envisions you pumping the silicone length in and out of your slick cunt as your head is thrown back in ecstasy, your breasts on full display, pert nipples just begging to be lavished upon as you arch your back, your thick thigh parted to afford him the perfect view of your glistening sex. Your tight pussy taking the toy so nicely, he can only imagine how incredible your silky walls feel gripping the length and squeezing along it as you work it in and out of yourself. He can't help but imagine what you'd feel like on his thick cock...his cock that, fucking hell, at this moment, was only growing harder and if he wasn't careful, he'd make himself look like even more a perverted jackass than he already had.
He forced himself to stop thinking about it, but it was impossible to stop thinking about you. Even if you weren't right here with him now, he was sure you'd be on him mind. He'd been finding himself having thoughts of you more and more frequently, even about the most mundane things. It seemed like every little thing led back to you.
He'd only known you now for a few months, but you seemed to occupy enough space in his mind that he would've sworn he'd known you for years. It felt that way, too. Like he could easily be himself around you, his true self. He wasn't sure you knew what effect you had on him, how you effortlessly got his walls down without even trying. He had no idea what it was about you, but it was something.
He's always being told how he was short with people, cold, closed off, grumpy, blunt, etc., etc., and he knew he was. There weren't many people he wanted to get to know, not many he wanted to even have to speak to. But with you.. It was almost embarrassing how excited he'd get when he'd hear your voice in the hallway, bounding up from wherever he was inside and heading straight for the door, pulling his boots on as fast as he could and grabbing his keys, then taking a second to compose himself and regain his air of cool before walking out the door. It didn't matter he had no plans of going anywhere, he just wanted an excuse to see you, to talk to you even if only in passing. He had a system to it now, too. If you were just getting home from somewhere, he'd pretend he was on his way to check his mail and if you were leaving, he'd be leaving, too. Taking the elevator with you, or the stairs depending on your mood, and then begrudgingly parting ways so he didn't appear like such a pup.
Occasionally, normally if it was late when you were headed out, he'd invite himself to go with you wherever it was you were going. On the times he'd miss your leaving, or you seemed like you wanted to be alone, he'd just...very nonchalantly, super casually, stealthily... follow you around the city. Not in a creepy way, he told himself. Just in a, a friendly, watching out for you way. It hadn't happened more than a handful of times, so it wasn't like he was stalking you. He really just wanted to make sure you were okay.
"You okay?" your voice asked, snapping him from his thoughts.
"'M fine, doll,"
"Great, well are you gonna apologize?" you said expectantly, turning your eyes on him as you looked up over your shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he breathed a smiled.
"Thank you," you stated simply before turning back around to look at the menu board. "And you can take your hand off of me now," you added, not wanting to say it while facing him, lest he catch the look in your eyes making it evident you wouldn't mind all that much if he kept his hands on your forever. And you wouldn't say it, but his touch was oddly comforting. You found yourself disappointed when he let his hand slip down from its place on your hip.
"Did I tell you my couch got delivered?"
"Oh yeah?" you laughed, grateful for the change in conversation.
"Mhm," he affirmed. "It could use some wearing in," he hinted.
"Not comfy?"
"Not just yet."
"Hm. I'm sure it'll get there."
"Come on, don't make me beg here,"
"Beg? For what?"
"You know what I'm getting at,"
"Do I?" you questioned, playing dumb. He sighed loudly as he stepped from behind you, moving instead to stand next to you again.
"Would you come over tonight? I'll even let you pick what we watch,"
You narrowed your eyes at the proposal. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
You pursed your lips, pretending to think on it, knowing full well your answer was a 'yes' the second he brought it up. "Okay," you agreed with a soft smile that you tried to hide.
He looked down at you next to him, admiring the way it felt so right to be near you, even as simply as this, as he smiled in return. "So you wanna eat here or take it back to my place?"
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series masterlist
1K notes · View notes
moremaybank · 1 year
Note
mirror sex with jj pleaseee😩
REFLECTIONS — j.m
pairing jj maybank x gf!reader
summary jj surprises you when you two go on a romantic trip for the weekend
warnings 18+, unprotected sex, humping, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), anal play, mirror sex (obvi), language, praise kink, slight degradation kink, squirting
author's note kinda put my own lil twist on it, i hope that's okay 🫶🏻
jj masterlist
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you swiped your key card over the lock, hearing the little ding that notified you that the door to your hotel room was now unlocked. you stepped inside, jj following closely behind you as he brought in your bags. the door shut behind him, and he set down your belongings as he watched you explore the room.
it's not every day that the two of you get the opportunity to spend an entirely stress-free and romantic weekend away, so jj had opted to make it memorable. sure, he splurged when he had promised you he wouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. he loved you so much, and you deserved it. point blank, period.
"j..." you whispered, eyes roaming around the room. there were twinkly lights across the walls and strung carefully around the railing of the balcony, and the view was gorgeous. it overlooked the water, the now setting-sun casting hues of pink, orange and violet over the body of water. there were three bottles of kook-worthy champagne in ice buckets and chocolate-covered strawberries decorated with precision. the king-sized mattress has rose petals sprinkled over the duvet in the shape of a heart. "did you do all this?"
"maybe," he shrugged, a casual but shy smile on his face. "you haven't even seen the best part. look up," he urged.
it was an odd request, but you obliged, tilting your head back to get a look at the ceiling of your room. when you did, your gaze landed on your reflection.
"you didn't," you breathed, a smile growing on your face as you looked at him from over your shoulder.
"oh, but i did."
you and jj were laid up in the hammock at the chateau. he had an arm slung around your shoulders as you leaned your head on his broad chest. your fingers toyed with each other's as you stared up at the stars in the night sky. the air was chilly, but neither of you even had the chance to notice because you were enveloped in each other's warmth.
nothing could beat this.
"hey, babe?"
"hm?" you hummed in response, your fingers tracing patterns over the palm of his hand.
"how cheesy would it be if one day we got a hotel room with a mirror on the ceiling?"
"that's...an oddly specific question," you chuckled, "but honestly, i think it'd be romantic. why do you ask?"
"i'm just trying to see if you're as freaky as i am," he smirked, and you laughed softly, smacking him on the chest.
"jj."
"i'm serious. it'd give us a whole other perspective," he said, slowly climbing on top of you. "just think about it...you on your back while i'm devouring the hell out of your pussy. you looking up at the mirror and watching my every move. each thrust of my cock into you, watching it fill you up from two different angles...it'd be one hell of a show," he mumbled into your neck, leaving soft and wet kisses there.
you felt your panties start to become damp as jj's words and actions turned you on, and you weaved your legs around his hips to bring him closer to you. your hand clasped around the back of his neck, bringing his face back up so you could look at him.
"well, when you put it that way, how could i ever say no?"
jj grinned in response. "i'll make it happen one day. we'll get out of here, just you and me, and we'll spend an entire weekend together just drowning in each other. how's that sound?" he questioned, his thumb smoothing over the outline of your jaw as his gaze locked on yours.
"that sounds perfect. now, what do you say we drown in each other right here?"
"how could i ever say no?" he spoke, quoting what you said earlier with a smug look on his face.
"that was two years ago, how'd you even remember that?"
"it was my idea, baby. i told you i'd make it happen, didn't i?" jj pulled you backwards until you were against his front, and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist as he leaned his head on your shoulder. "you deserve the best, baby, and i'm gonna give it to you."
you turned your head to the side, pecking jj's cheek softly. "you better get your ass on that bed, maybank. i'm about to give you the night of your life."
"that's my line," he frowned.
you didn't answer, but instead, you shoved him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. you giggled as he tugged you closer to him, and your lips collided.
jj's hands slid under the hem of your shit, fingers hooking into the material of the back of your bra. he tugged on it, letting it snap back onto the skin of your back. you hissed at the semi-harsh contact, the sting only spurring on your pending horniness. you'd always been the type of person to enjoy a little pain with your pleasure. in response, one of your hands threaded your fingers through his blonde locks, tugging on them as jj pulled you closer still, your clothed breasts pressing into jj's chest.
"take this shit off," jj mumbled, pulling at the hem of your shirt. you obliged his order, stripping your shirt off. your laced bra accentuated your cleavage and made jj's head spin. he yanked each cup down, freeing your breasts from their confinement before his lips adorned them with kisses and nibbles. he sucked soft red and purple hues into the flesh of your tits, and you rolled your hips against his. the tent in his shorts was growing. his cock firm as you prompted his arousal, and it twitched underneath your clothed core.
"jj," you whispered, your digits prying at the button of his shorts. he nodded at you, giving a silent go-ahead for you to remove them from his lower half. you yanked them down his legs when he raised his hips. "can i suck you off, baby?" you asked, your palm rubbing against his cock over his briefs.
"fuck yeah," he breathed.
you grinned, helping him shrug off his shirt before you started to trail wet kisses down his torso. you began at his sternum, making your way down to the waistband of his underwear. you drew it downward, exposing his cock. the tip was red, angry and wanting as it silently begged you for attention. your hand circled it, and you stroke him slightly.
"have i ever told you how beautiful your cock is, j? it's perfect. i salivate every single time about it, did y'know?"
you spat on your hand, lubing it up before you brought it back to jj's length. you brought your face closer to it, opening your mouth. you slapped it against your tongue, feeling the gratifying weight of it weighing you down. it didn't matter how many times you'd come face to face with his length. you were still stunned and completely cock-drunk every single time without fail.
you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue swirling around it as you teased him. jj's hips jerked, notifying you that he wanted for me. more of your lips, more of your mouth and your tongue. just the tip wasn't enough for him. he needed to feel all of you, or he wouldn't be satiated. not in the slightest.
you brought him down your throat all the way, his cock nudging the back of it each time you took him into your mouth. your head bobbed up and down as your lips created a vice-like grip on him. he threw his head back, his fingers digging into your scalp as he guided your movements.
"shit. your mouth feels so good, baby. can i come down your throat? will you let me do that?" he questioned.
your doe eyes stared up at him, softening as you silently gave him permission to do so. he grinned as best as he could manage through the pleasure. he let you slurp and suck all around him, your mouth warm and slick against his length. jj met you halfway, semi-thrusting his hips as you pulled and pulled at him with your lips. you moaned around him while taking him deeper. it was almost as if you could feel him in your lungs, and you moaned around him as he used your throat to make himself come.
"fuck. i'm right there. make me come, baby. want you to swallow me whole."
you sucked on him harsher, your lips providing a suction-like clasp on his length. your free hand came up to play with his balls, massaging them as you reeled him toward his orgasm. they tightened, his cock fluttering inside your mouth as he shot his hot ropes of come down your throat. it was hot and slightly salty, but also so jj at the same time. you could lap at him forever if he'd let you.
jj pulled you off his length and guided your face back to his so he could kiss you. he did, his lips devouring yours in a wordless 'thank you.' you blindly yanked at the clasp of your bra as you tossed it aside, freeing your breasts completely. you momentarily pulled away from the kiss, desperately trying to rid yourself of your jean shorts. you finally dislodged the button, unzipping them and tugging them down your legs along with your panties.
"will you fuck me, daddy? i wanna watch you fill me up," you begged, your bare core grinding against his cock after you climbed back on top of him. you bit your lip as the stimulation to your clit raked through your body. your movements soon became relentless as that familiar pleasant feeling grew more and more present.
"baby. if you don't stop, i'm gonna come before i even get inside you," jj grunted, grabbing your hips in an attempt to halt your grinding. you whined at the loss of your pleasure because you craved that high you were chasing. "shh. it's alright, pretty girl. i'm gonna take care of you, i promise."
he changed your position, laying you flat on your back as he propped your head up on the lush pillows. his fingers ran down your inner thighs, causing goosebumps to form in their wake. he inched closer and closer to your cunt, and your clit throbbed as your blood rushed to it. you yearned for any sliver of friction jj would grant, and as if he knew your exact thoughts, his thumb teased your entrance. it gathered up your slick, smoothing it over your folds and all the way up to your bundle of nerves. his circled it delicately, sating your ache only slightly. he slipped his middle finger inside of you, stroking in and out as he continued his work on your clit.
"can you do something for me, princess?"
"anything, j. anything."
"i want you to watch us in the mirror. watch as i bury myself in you. watch as every ridge and vein of my cock strokes your pussy until you can't take it anymore," he rasped, pushing into you inch by inch. "your pussy swallows me so well. i wouldn't give a fuck if you kept me inside of you forever. i'd just spend my days filling you to the brim with my seed. get you all knocked up and pretty."
jj didn't move, letting you adjust to his measurable length. you could feel it throbbing inside of you, each pulse matching up with the beats of his heart. he threw his head back as he got accustomed to your pussy.
you looked up at him in the mirror, watching as the sunset light from the balcony door highlighted the high points of his face. he was so beautiful, all uniquely carved and striking. you burned the image into your memory, never wishing to forget just how majestic he looked in this moment.
"move for me, j. gonna be your good fucking slut. make me fall apart for you," you urged, your hands running down his chest.
jj started to move, his cock slamming against your cervix with a slight sting as he fucked you. his hands groped your tits, squeezing them needily as he rutted into you. he gritted his teeth, the gratification of your cunt around him sending chills down his spine.
"tell me how i make you feel, baby girl. beg me for my cock, i wanna hear it." his hips picked up the pace further, your flesh smacking together with each thrust.
"i need your cock, baby. can't live without it. pound me harder," you pleaded. you felt his lust take completely take over his actions, and his cock rammed into you. you knew you drove him crazy when you spoke to him in that manner, begging and begging until he snapped. he was fast-approaching that state, and you wanted to see him break.
"i love when you use me, jj. force me to take your cock and until i can't breathe, make me fucking take it. tonight is all about you. this pussy belongs to you, j. it's all for you."
"yeah?"
"mhm. fuck, look at that," you spoke, motioning up to the mirror. "you see that, baby? see how my pussy takes all of you? you're so good for me, filling me whole. love you and your cock so much."
jj's hand came up to your face, and he pushed his thumb into your mouth, letting you lap at it and drench it with your saliva. once he decided it was enough, he brought his hand underneath the place where you two were connected. his thumb probed at the entrance of your puckered hole, and he sank it in slowly. a new wave of pleasure coursed through your veins at the added penetration.
you gasped at the sudden intrusion, your hands gripping onto his biceps with a strong grasp as you melted underneath him. you were slowly turning into putty in his hands, letting him act as he deemed fit. you'd allow him to do anything to you, anything that granted him even the slightest bit of satisfaction.
"ruin me, jj. make it hurt. i'm so fucking close."
jj pulled out of you just as you felt your orgasm starting to wash over you. you whined loudly, hands gripping at him as you tried to feel him again.
"not yet. not finished with you, baby."
jj leaned back against the pillows to your side, and he tugged you on top of him. your back was flush against his front, his legs caging around yours as he sank you down onto his cock. you threw your head back against his shoulder as he began to move again. his hand clutched around your throat. he kept your gaze on his in the reflection of the mirror.
"look at you. my own fucking sex doll. you're so pathetic that you'd let me do anything i wanted to you, isn't that right?"
this new position drove you up the wall. his cock jammed against your g-spot, the curve of him nudging you deliciously. your hands hooked under his own, wrapping around his biceps once more as he fucked you. you were already on the verge of crying when he brought a hand down to rub at your clit viciously.
the view from the mirror was a different type of erotic, one that the two of you had never experimented with up to date. it was like watching a film, one that had you on the edge of your seat; one that you never wanted to look away from in fear that you'd miss a vital moment.
"don't stop, jj. oh god, please don't fucking stop. i'm right there."
"yeah? you gonna cream all over my cock, baby?" his hips fucked up into you relentlessly as he poured all his energy to destroying your cunt. you nodded, your eyes locking on his as you bit down on your bottom lip harshly.
"oh, baby. e-even better," you spoke. you squealed, finally feeling your orgasm take over. your release squirted out of you, and your juices poured out onto the sheets below you. it coated jj's fingers as well, the ones that had previously been massaging your clit. he brought them up to your mouth, stuffing them inside and letting you taste yourself.
"how d'you taste, pretty girl? so fucking sweet, right? nothing is as sweet as you." his hips began to jerk as he approached his own high. your hand reached behind you, gripping the back of his neck as his teeth bit into the flesh of your shoulder. you felt him shoot his hot come inside of you, filling you with a warm sensation.
eventually, he halted his actions, pulling out of you slowly as you both laid together, trying to catch your breath. you turned your head, your forehead leaning against the crook of jj's neck. you listened to his heartbeat, and you felt it thump-thumping at the skin of your back. his arms weaved themselves around your waist, holding you tight as you both relaxed.
you grabbed one of his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours as you brought them to your lips. you kissed his knuckles, lingering for a moment before holding that same hand to your chest.
"thank you so much for this. i love you," you said.
"...you don't think i'm done with you, do you?"
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jj tag list (join here!): @maybankslover @kittyqrt @skydisneylover @v-velvetykisscs @hobiibobii @rafesdior @fool4him
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otdiaftg · 3 months
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The King's Men - Chapter Ten
Day: Friday, February 9th Time: 10:55 PM EST
"We won," Neil said. He waited, but of course Andrew didn't respond to that. Neil tried to stamp out his frustration but couldn't stop all of a sigh. "Would it kill you to let something in?" "It almost did last time," Andrew said. He said it matter-of-factly, but Neil still winced when he realized his misstep. He reached out but stopped his hand a careful distance from Andrew's arm. Andrew's long sleeves and bands hid his scars but Neil remembered how they felt under his fingers. "This is different," Neil said. "The only one in your way now is you. You really could be Court one day, but you can't get there if you won't try." Neil waited, but Andrew stared wordlessly back at him. Neil could win a stare-down with almost anyone else, but he didn't have the patience to fight Andrew tonight. "Andrew, talk to me." "You sound like a wind-up doll with only one topic," Andrew said. "I have nothing to say to you." "If I talk about something else, will you talk to me?" Andrew quirked a brow at him. "Can you talk about something else?" That stung. Neil opened his mouth to snap something back, but words failed him. The small talk that kept their teammates entertained so easily meant nothing to either of them. Neil didn't want to talk about movies and classes with Andrew. He wanted to talk about tonight's unprecedented win. He wanted to talk about their chances of breaking through round three for another death match. He wanted to talk about the look on Riko's face when the Foxes faced them again in May. He wanted to savor this win, not write it off as something trivial and uninteresting.
Art used with permission by Ouijacine. Thank you @ouijacine!
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richonnesbitch · 1 month
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Any favorite Richonne moments? Rewatching season 6 and forgot about Michonne immediately slamming the woman who punched Rick. I couldn’t help but think how that meme of kevin hart being held is so Richonne coded lmao
Every richonne moment is my favorite moment tbh 😂
I, too, really love when Michonne body slammed that random woman who punched Rick. And it being directly after their first night together makes it sexier. Like that is HER man, she's decided. Like, they're so iconic. Imagine every scene with your ship being their best scene. That's crazy!
But to answer your question I'll name a few of moments I especially love. Some of these are probably underrated, others probably not. It's not gonna be in any type of order because it's too hard to rank lol. But here are five.
1: Taking Judith To Hilltop
Whenever Carl is dying and Alexandria is getting bombed by the saviors, the group decides they need to evacuate to Hilltop. Rick asks Michonne, the person he trusts most in the world, to take Judith to Hilltop. And we all know how much Rick (and Michonne) loves his children so this was definitely a huge thing to ask. I just find it beautiful the amount of trust he has in her. I love that Andy quote where he's like "Rick trusts her with his life and his children's lives." I can't remember the full quote so I'm definitely paraphrasing but it's a great moment. And unfortunately I can't find a picture of the moment either.
2: Mowing Down Walkers with the RDIM
This whole scene is just so crazy to me. It starts off with Michonne annoyed she has to just stand around while everyone else does all the work. Fed up, she decides to ignore Thorne and take charge. She grabs the RDIM and runs and runs and runs pretty far away from everyone else, mowing down walkers along the way. And then all of a sudden who appears next to her? Rick. Do you know how fast he would have to have been running to catch up with her? He's crazy lmao! It's also really sweet in another way too because he knows she might get in trouble for this so he gets himself in trouble with her. Partners in crime! And also im sure he couldn't just let her run into a horde of walkers by herself. Anyway, they mow down the walkers and then Rick sets the RDIM up to explode and grabs Michonne's hand and runs away from the impending explosion with her. And if you notice when they go behind the tree, Rick puts her ahead of himself. He also shields her body with his when the explosion happens. We know what happens next. They start staring into each other's eyes and neither of them are capable of resisting each other so they have a little makeout session complete with tonguing and moaning. Classic richonne. Noticing their connection, Michonne says "come on" referring to how he should leave with her. He warns that "They'll find us, they will." She tells him "we'll make it so they can't." And he's under her spell so of course all his most recent refusal just goes out the window as he tells her "not like this." It ends with a signature forehead touch. I feel like this is a thing richonne generally does when they feel distant from one another. Physical touch is big for them so I feel like the forehead touching is a way to reconnect them I think. It's beautiful. So anyway they head back to the rest of the group to help. Thorne's goofy ass decides that Michonne, or Dana, is more trouble than she's worth and aims her big gun at her. Somehow Michonne's bodyguard Rick notices this immediately. It's crazy how he ALWAYS has eyes on her to protect her. No wonder she said she only feels safe with him. He sticks himself between the gun and Michonne, blocking her from Thorne's view and successfully saving her from being killed. I love seeing how protective Rick is of his lady.
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3: Rv Hand Hold
So after their first kiss and first night together, they are tragically robbed of the chance to spend the morning together when Jesus lets himself into their home to speak to Rick. This world moves fast so they don't really get the time to breathe before Jesus and the rest of the group are on their way to Hilltop. Michonne sits bashfully in the passenger seat, wondering if last night meant as much to Rick as it did to her. And Rick notices this (because he always has eyes on her) and eases her mind by grabbing her hand. Of COURSE it meant as much to him as it did to you.
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4: Michonne Saving Rick From Winslow
So I've talked about how much I love Rick being protective of Michonne but I also love when Michonne is protective of Rick. Okay so this moment happens when Rick and Michonne are trying to recruit those worthless useless garbage people to fight against the saviors. Their leader (who I'm not naming because fuck that bitch) wants to put Rick to the test like the dumbass she is. To test him, she decides to take him "up, up, up" which is code for "throw you in a hole you can't climb out of with no weapons while a spiked walker comes at you." Michonne, sensing this bullshit, nervously grabs Rick's hand to stop him. She goes to say something but Rick stops her and comforts her. He goes up there anyway and gives Michonne a reassuring nod once up there. The leader says some sort of bullshit to him, I don't know what because I zone out any time she speaks. Anyway she pushes him down the hole. Michonne screams at her "what did you do?!?!" before running to find Rick by looking through a hole. She yells his name and he looks around confusedly for a few seconds before figuring out where her voice is coming from. He lets her know he's okay. And then Winslow comes at him. Again he has no weapon so he frantically tries to climb out but to no avail. Michonne watching this through the hole yells directions to him. "The walls. USE them!" And he does! And it works! Michonne's plan works and she saves his life. It's just a fun example of how Michonne's guidance always helps Rick.
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5: Unclenching His Fist
So after a very endearing family fun day for the Grimes family, it sadly gets cut short when Scott (or whatever his name is) delivers the news that some random ex savior (that really no one cares about) got killed by someone. This is bad news and Rick is visibly upset by this. Michonne notices this and reaches a hand out to him.
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His hand is closed and she gently opens it.
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She not only comforts him but let's him know this burden isn't only his. It's hers too. And that they will get through this together. Michonne has always been able to comfort Rick in a way no one else can and vice versa.
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So in conclusion, these are just a few moments I really love and why I love them. Again I wanna say that every moment is my favorite richonne moment so this is definitely not a ranked list. I had to limit myself to just five because I could go on and on and on and on and on and on if you let me 😂 but if you wanna know more of my favorite moments I don't mind sharing them. Thanks for the ask! This was so fun to write.
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misshoneyimhome · 10 days
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But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow I William Nylander & Matthew Knies - Part one 🔥🌺⚡️
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Summary; A quote by Hector Urquhart goes "One man's rubbish may be another's treasure" - however, what happens, when the first man realises that it wasn't rubbish after all?
Other notes: Hey there, babes! So, this idea sparked from the Woll x Knies threesome request, and I couldn't resist working more with the sweetest freshman 😉 Before we dive in, I want to give a quick shoutout to @couldawouldashoulda50 for being my co-pilot on this journey - Thanks for putting up with all my rambling 💓🙏🏼 Also, just a heads up, this will be posted in two (or maybe three) parts because it ended up being a bit longer than planned 🙃 So, without further delay, I hope you enjoy it!
Tropes & Warnings; William Nylander x Matthew Knies x reader, Friends to lovers; jealousy; 18+ smut; fingering, protected penetrative sex (p in v), mention of oral sex (f and m receiving);
Word count; 6K+
・✶ 。゚
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Your body felt numb, achy, and weak. Yet your mind was completely blissed out, soaring with ecstasy, and flooded with endorphins.
Breathing was difficult in the heavy air of the room, saturated with the scent of raw, passionate sex that hung in the air as the warmth between the two bodies flanking you enveloped you.
The memories of how you'd got here were hazy, yet there was no trace of regret. Your heart raced in your chest as tingles radiated through your core after the intense encounter. Yet, pure happiness surged through your veins, joy coursing through your bloodstream.
-
It was just before the season kicked off when you found yourself alone with William Nylander for the first time. During a night out in Toronto, the charming Swede caught your eye, and after a few minutes of exchanging glances, he finally made his way closer to you, effortlessly charming you with his dazzling blue eyes and cheeky smile.
You had moved to the city about a year ago, where your friendly and outgoing roommate had introduced you to some of her friends. Yet what she hadn't mentioned beforehand was that some of these friends happened to be players for the Toronto Maple Leafs.
You’d naturally tried to keep your cool and play the role of a casual friend whenever you were around the team and their social circles. And while you had gotten to know most of the guys on a friendly level, it never went beyond that.
That all changed on the night when you couldn't ignore the attraction you felt towards the Swedish hockey star. And when you shared a moment of connection amidst your mutual friends, you had a feeling that the night was going to be something special.
And you were right. William certainly made it a night to remember.
After a few more hours of chatting and occasional gentle touching, he edged in closer and whispered seductive words in your ear. His breath sent a shiver down your spine, and his words set off a tingling heat between your legs. There was simply no way you could resist him.
So, as soon as your roommate left with some random guy, quickly checking if you were okay to get home alone, you seized the opportunity to invite William back with you. To which he happily agreed.
Since both of you were mindful of the upcoming hockey schedule and the importance of staying in good shape, none of you had too much alcohol in the system, making you both aware of your actions.
And to say the sex was good would be an understatement. William took his time, starting with lots of kissing. His skilled mouth felt perfectly matched with yours, and as both of you became increasingly turned on and eager, he used his thick fingers to stimulate your core, stretching your entrance while circling your clit, ensuring you reached climax at least once.
Once you were wet and ready for him, he put on a condom and began slowly entering you in the missionary position. However, the tender, slow lovemaking didn't last long as the heat in your bedroom intensified. Both of you were too aroused to hold back, quickly transitioning to other positions.
First, you angled yourself on William's shoulder, allowing him to penetrate deeper and harder. Then, with both of your legs against his chest as he knelt back, he thrust into you vigorously.
At this point, your mind was already lost in a blissful haze as you gripped onto the pillowcase behind your head, and your muscles tightening around William's member. With each thrust, he stimulated your walls, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm.
And as he felt himself nearing climax as well, he released your legs, swiftly pulling out before using his strength to turn you onto your stomach. Lifting your buttocks slightly for better access, he entered you again, filling you up as he hit a different angle.
Your breaths were heavy, moans blending as his hips collided against your cheeks. Gripping the sheets beneath you, William's pounding drove you both over the edge into ecstasy, reaching climax simultaneously.
It had been uncomplicated yet deeply satisfying sex, far better than most first times with a new partner. It didn't feel rushed or impersonal; it was passionate and genuine, despite the absence of romance or deeper emotions. It was simply perfect. Your bodies had moved in sync, and both of you experienced profound pleasure.
However, after the wonderful one-night stand, William wanted to clarify that it was all it was to him – at least for now. While he knew he really liked you, he emphasised that this season he wouldn't have the time or energy to focus on dating. Instead, his priority would be his hockey career, so if the two of you were to continue anything, it would be limited to casual hook-ups and friendly get-togethers.
And, you didn't really have any objections. William was a good friend, someone you felt a connection with, and had shared interests with. Moreover, he was exceptionally attractive, and after just one encounter, feeling his body against yours, you couldn’t deny the temptation of doing it again. You’d slowly come to know him well, and despite the tiny hope of building something together, you also respected his desire to keep things non-romantic. So, you agreed on a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement whenever there was time for it.
And already following one of the first friendly matches before the start of the regular season, you shared your second night together. Which once again, was a night filled with multiple orgasms- and this time, you even got to experience William's oral skills, something you had never encountered in such an incredible way with anyone else before.
The creativity you both had with positions was simply fun and exciting. Yet while you alternated between being on top and taking the lead, William always remained the dominant character - except perhaps when you showcased your own oral talents.
In short, it was just a great causal relationship where you shared a profound connection. Both before and following the heated session, you shared laughter and smiles, before you made your way out of his condo. And to no one’s surprise, the two times then quickly turned into three times. And then four times over a few more weeks.
-
As the regular season gradually took shape, William's predictions about his limited free time outside the hockey rink proved accurate. Although you exchanged texts almost daily, sharing memes and Instagram posts, you reminded yourself that there was no deeper meaning to it. It was all just friendly banter and genuine laughter. Or well, perhaps there was a rather flirtatious sense of humour involved, as well as occasional sexual jokes and references.
And truth be told, you cherished the relationship you had with the Swede. Since he didn’t require much attention from your side, it gave you ample opportunity to get to know everyone else around the team better. So, you began spending more and more time with some of the girls, going out for brunches and having girls’ nights-in to watch the hockey matches, as well as frequenting the arena more often than before.
So, as weeks turned into months, you slowly grew closer to the other players. Whether it was dinners at the Marners’ or social gatherings with the team, you found yourself welcomed into the tightly knit circle. Something beyond what you had ever imagined your life would be like living in Toronto.
And among all the newly formed relationships, one stood out in particular. You weren’t entirely sure what sparked it, but as if out of nowhere, freshman Matthew Knies walked straight into your heart and stole it.
Perhaps it was the first time you were carrying too many iced coffees for the ladies and almost spilled them, if it hadn’t been for the young forward's help. Or maybe the connection began when he nearly ran you over near the training rink, his focus solely on navigating, oblivious to your presence.
But regardless, a connection quickly blossomed. What started as light laughter and sweet exchanges gradually evolved into coffee walks and exploring the hidden gems of the city, whenever he wanted to give the Tavares family some private time. As you knew what it was like to be new to the city, and since it wasn’t too long ago for you, you offered him company if he ever needed a break from hockey -to which he gladly accepted. And as you spent more and more hours together, you couldn’t help but feel something stirring within you.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but one thing was certain: it felt good.
Similarly, Matthew was slowly developing some kind of feelings for you as well. As he had recently ended things with his ex-girlfriend due to the distance, he found a void in his heart that needed filling. And your sweet laughter, quirky jokes, and endless storytelling about anything and everything filled that void for him.
At first, it didn’t feel romantic or anything of the sort, especially since he wasn’t seeking a relationship; you were just two good friends enjoying each other's company. And despite the little age gap, he felt like an equal. You helped him move into his new flat, shared your best easy cooking tips, while he introduced you to playing NHL on PlayStation and played a few tunes on his guitar for you. It was a simple yet profound friendship.
And as the hockey season then unfolded with its highs and lows, the emotional roller-coaster began to influence your friendships. If he ever needed a tight hug or wanted to call you while on the road just to talk about something other than hockey, you were there for him.
So, as days passed, your time gradually involved more chats with Matthew Knies, while your friendship with William Nylander softly faded into the background.
You never officially ended things with William; he was simply preoccupied with training, so your communication was limited to social media. Meanwhile, your conversations with Matthew grew deeper and more personal. Gradually, he learned more about your family, career aspirations, and the reasons for your move to Toronto, while he talked about the ups and downs of his recent relationship with his ex-girlfriend and how much he missed home.
It wasn’t until Auston Matthews brought up your and William's previous encounters that it dawned on Matthew what he had happened before he’d entered the picture. Though William had become one of his best friends on the team, he had never mentioned anything about having had a relationship with you. But after a training session, when it was just the two Arizona players left in the locker room, Auston brought it to Matthew's attention.
"He's alright with it, you know," the elder hockey star started. "About you and y/n."
Matthew was a little confused. Why would William have anything against who he was friends with?
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You know, because they had a thing going on – sleeping together and stuff like that," Auston explained, believing Matthew already knew, given his close friendships with both you and William.
"Oh... wait, what?" Matthew's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You didn't know?"
"Well, no... when did they..." Matthew's curiosity peaked.
"Oh, months ago, man... don’t worry about it, it was just before the season started, so..." Auston replied casually.
"Ah, cool... but," the younger teammate pondered whether to delve deeper. "Like, how many times? Did they go out or?"
"Just a few times, I think," Auston shrugged nonchalantly as he rose from his seat to pack his bag. "Hey, Willy's cool, and no, it’s not like they ever dated, so she's all free."
Yet, as Auston left the locker room, leaving Matthew to his own thoughts, he couldn't help but consider talking to William about it, just to be sure and not accidentally create tension with his good friend and one of the greatest players on the team.
And fortunately, the conversation with William went surprisingly smoothly.
"Of course, I don’t mind you hanging out with y/n," William simply chuckled. "I mean, sure, she's my friend and all, and yes, we slept together, but that's it, man."
"Alright, just wanted to make sure there's nothing more between you two," Matthew smiled back at his friend.
"Nah, she's amazing, I get why you want to be around her," William flashed a smile, his body language relaxed as he rested his hand on his hip, while he rubbed his beard with the other. "I mean, I just feel bad I haven't talked more with her myself, so I'm just happy she's got you, man."
Matthew felt a weight lift from his shoulders after his talk with William. While it wasn't entirely uncommon for players to have shared experiences with a girl or two occasionally, it had mostly been just for sex, and not across relationships, at least not to his knowledge.
However, what neither you nor Matthew knew was that William had been thinking a lot about your growing friendship. Initially, he found it sweet and nice that you were chatting with everyone on and around the team, giving him the space he'd said he needed to focus on his game.
But as you gradually stopped flirting with him, both in person and through messages, he started to feel the change sting a little. He knew he was the one who had said there couldn't be more between you than just sex, but when even that didn't happen, he felt as if you were slowly distancing yourself from him. And he was losing you both as a lover and a friend.
So, even though he acted cool and chill about the closeness between you and the freshman, he still couldn’t deny that it got to him. The connection he had shared with you felt almost unique, and he wasn’t ready to let it fade completely.
-
Months had passed since your first night with William, and life in Toronto was nothing short of amazing. You had a lovely group of friends, with most of your nights spent watching hockey matches alongside them, occasionally dining out with the team.
Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that you still missed William deeply. Despite convincing yourself from the beginning that you never harboured any deeper feelings for him, you couldn’t deny the disappointment you felt when your relationship never progressed further or lasted. You simply couldn’t escape the significance of your connection with him and seeing him so often around the rink or when going out, made it clear that you needed to find a way to move on.
And fortunately, your relationship with Matthew helped ease the hurt you were feeling. He was an amazing guy, and to you it almost seemed crazy that his ex-girlfriend had let him go. He was sweet, caring, and surprisingly mature for his age. And you knew you were slowly developing feelings for him.
So, one Friday night, as you were out with some girlfriends not in the hockey group, you shared your troubles, hoping for advice from outsiders.
"If you want my opinion," Bethany spoke, holding her drink as you’d moved from dinner to cocktails. "What you need is closure. Tell this Will directly that you’re over him, cut him out, and then move on with that other guy, since you seem really into him."
You had tried to avoid giving too many details about who your relationships were with to your girlfriends, wary of any misunderstandings getting out to the media. Yet their input did have you thinking.
"I can’t just cut him out... I see him around all the time, he’s part of the group of friends, and..." you tried to explain. "I don’t know... I might still like him a little..." You finally admitted to yourself.
“Well, then I don’t see any other option,” Carol chimed in with a raised eyebrow. “You need to sleep with Matts. The best way to get over a guy is to sleep with another.”
The girls giggled and cheered at her remark, but despite trying to join in the mood, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach. You weren’t entirely sure if this was truly the way to go. Making a move on Matthew meant there would most likely be no going back to William. But if you let the memories of William, knowing he didn’t feel the same for you, hold you back from developing things with Matthew, you knew you’d regret it too.
So, torn between your feelings for the two men, you ordered another Espresso Martini followed by a Cosmopolitan.
You weren’t exactly tipsy or drunk, but you had just the right amount of liquid courage to steel yourself. And as you parted ways with the girls and made your way to the subway station, you pulled out your phone to find the name of the person you felt a need for calling.
However, as you stood there, hesitating over the 'call' button with your finger, a wave of unease washed over you. And upon glancing to your right, you spotted a group of men staring in your direction.
Initially, you tried to ignore them, but as they slowly edged closer, adrenaline started to course through you. And suddenly, one of them made lewd remarks, prompting you to press the screen.
"You tried to reach William Nylander. Please leave a message after the tone. *beep*"
With a frustrated sigh, you muttered, "Shit..."
The train finally arrived, and you pondered your next move. Since the men appeared to be waiting for the same train, you stopped yourself from entering and watched to see if they did. Breathing a sigh of relief when they did, you remained on the platform and decided to wait for the next one. However, just before the doors closed, two of them stepped back onto the platform.
And this time panic surged within you, so you swiftly switched to plan B.
"Hey," Matthew's voice echoed through the phone, instantly comforting you.
"H-hey, Matts..." your voice quivered slightly, despite your efforts to stay composed. "I hope I'm not disturbing your evening..."
"No, I'm just chilling at home... y/n, are you alright?" His concern was evident in his voice.
"I... I just..." you stuttered, avoiding direct eye contact with the two men but catching them in the corner of your eye. "I'm just feeling a bit..."
"What's wrong?"
But before you could respond, one of the men started heckling you again. "Hey, sweetheart! Lost your way? Need a tour guide? I'll show you a real good time!"
You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself.
"What's going on, y/n?" Matthew's voice was firm. “Who was that?”
"There are... um, some guys, Matts," you whispered, struggling to hold back tears. "It's really uncomfortable, and I just needed to talk to someone..."
"Where are you?"
"I'm..." you paused, gathering your thoughts before informing him about your location.
"Just stay there and try to keep away from the guys... I'll come and get you," Matthew quickly declared.
And before you could even attempt to object, he was already on his way out the door. You had to take in a deep breath as you tried your best to move your feet, feeling anxious as the men didn’t seem to leave you alone. Yet, with a little force, you managed to slowly move from your spot, and wander the platform a little. And with Matthew still on the line, you then cautiously moved towards the exit, avoiding glances back at the unsettling men. However, as you rode the escalator, you inadvertently looked back and spotted them trailing behind you.
"Please tell me you're close..." you whispered urgently. It almost seemed like forever before you were able to escape the uncomfortable situation. Yet thankfully, as soon as you reached street level, you spotted Matthew rolling up in his car, prompting you to hurry towards him.
"Oh my God! Thank you!" you exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, almost throwing yourself at him. "Thank you..."
"Hey, y/n… it’s okay," Matthew's voice was soothing as you gently pulled away, your eyes tinged with tears of frustration. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright..."
You were at a loss for words. It almost felt like he had rescued you. Even though the danger wasn't anything extreme, it had felt that way in the moment, and you were incredibly grateful that he had taken the initiative to come and pick you up without you even having to ask.
"I am... now," you breathed out, attempting to muster a smile.
"Good," Matthew returned the smile as he prepared to resume driving. "Let me take you home then."
It was a smooth ride filled with light giggles and laughter, and you probably thanked him about a thousand times before you reached your apartment building. However, as you were about to exit the car, you hesitated for a moment. Pressing your lips together, you pondered whether to speak your thoughts, yet with a light blush of embarrassment rising to your cheek, you pushed yourself to let the words slip out.
"Matts..." you softly began, your eyes meeting his in the dimmed lights. "Y/rm/n isn’t home, and… I sort of don’t feel like being alone tonight... after what happened..."
Your eyes briefly glanced down at your fingers before returning to meet his gaze. Yet, Matthew just offered you a soft smile.
"Hey, y/n, if you want me to stay with you, I can stay… It's no problem."
It didn’t take much convincing, given that Matthew only wanted you to feel safe. So, as you made your way to your flat and settled onto the sofa, you again couldn’t help but express your gratitude.
"You don’t have to keep thanking me y/n," he chuckled as you offered him something to drink, sitting next to him.
"I know... I’m sorry, it’s just so sweet of you," you flashed him a smile. “I just feel like I owe you something.”
Pausing for a brief moment, Matthew put down his glass and leaned slightly towards you, pressing his lips together before speaking. "Y/n... you owe me nothing - honestly, I’d do anything for you..." he let out a soft breath, his eyes meeting yours in a tender gaze. "I mean... that’s what friends are for, right..." The last part came out softer, and perhaps a little hesitant as he didn’t truly want to have phrased it like that.
Yet, his words hung in the air for a moment as you savoured the moment of the two of you together, alone in the apartment as your roommate was out.
"Right," you smiled. "That's what friends are for," you repeated softly.
Another moment of silence lingered as the two of you just sat there, sharing eye contact. Matthew’s arm draped over the back of the sofa, your body slightly turned towards him, and your knee lightly touching his.
Matthew felt his heart pounding in his chest, his palms a little sweaty. He was a little unsure of your signals, however, as you maintained your focused gaze on him, he suddenly felt a rush of confidence and without much thought, he decided to slowly lean in to close the gap between you.
It was just for a brief moment, yet the quick kiss Matthew shared with you caused your lips to tingle.
"Shit... I’m so sorry," he muttered softly as he quickly pulled away.
But you didn’t want him to feel apologetic. In fact, you had had the same inclination, but lacked the confidence to act on it. "No... Matts, it’s okay," you replied, your tone just above a whisper.
"Really?"
And without any verbal confirmation, you simply just slowly leaned in and connected your lips once more. However, this time, they stayed connected for a little longer.
Gently feeling his smooth mouth on yours, your hand rested on his cheek while his found your hip, and almost in slow motion, your lips moved against each other as you shared your breaths. Then very delicately, both of you parted your lips and carefully let your tongues meet in a sensual dance.
It was a soft and gentle kiss, nothing sloppy or rushed. Then slowly pulling apart, you both let out a breath.
"Just to be sure..." Matthew spoke gently. "You’re not just doing this because of what happened tonight, are you?"
Softly, you shook your head, reassuring him that you’d been thinking the same. And with that understanding, you both aimed for another deep kiss. This one hungrier, and slowly growing more intense as you let your hands gently explore each other, pulling each other close.
With every passing moment, it grew deeper and deeper, sending warmth within you that you hadn't felt since your first night with William. However, as you moved to sit in Matthew’s lap, thoughts of William slowly faded, and you didn't even notice your phone buzzing on the coffee table.
As morning light seeped in through the curtains and you slowly awakened from your slumber, a gentle smile graced your lips as you felt Matthew’s arm enveloping your body. Despite him being clad in sweats, you could feel the warmth of his muscular, bare chest against your back.
You lay there for a moment, listening to the comforting rhythm of his breathing, not quite snoring yet emitting odd noises. And you couldn’t help but relish in the memories of last night.
Nothing overtly sexual had happened between you. Instead, you had spent the evening on the sofa, sharing deep kisses and simply enjoying the connection between you. Although you felt a certain level of attraction towards the younger hockey player, you didn’t want to rush into anything. For once, you wanted to take things slow.
And Matthew seemed to be on the same page as you, despite the evident arousal indicated by the hardness in his sweats. Yet, he remained respectful, and when you both realised how late it was, you decided to retire to bed.
Initially, Matthew had merely intended to ensure you fell asleep, tucking you into your oversized t-shirt and beneath the covers. However, as he lay on the bed beside you, admiring your beauty as you drifted off, he too succumbed to a wave of fatigue and ended up falling asleep with his arm around you.
And upon waking up to find you smiling at him, he had no regrets. “Morning,” his husky voice greeted, his eyes still slowly opening.
“Morning,” you replied sweetly. “Did you sleep alright?” you asked, noticing how his rather large frame occupied a significant space of your 1.5-person sized bed.
"Actually, I did," he chuckled, his voice rough and endearing.
There was a tender moment lingering between the two of you as your eyes met. However, the soft moment was suddenly interrupted by the doorbell ringing.
"What the..." you muttered under your breath, slightly baffled as to who would ring your doorbell early on a Saturday morning.
Yet as you made your way to the hallway and swung the door open, you were met with none other than your Swedish friend.
"Willy..." you breathed out, slightly shocked that he had shown up at your door.
"Good! You’re alive," he spoke perhaps a little too sharply, while his eyes were filled with concern.
"What do you mean?"
"I tried calling you yesterday, after you tried to call me," he explained, his tone softening a tad as he locked eyes with you. "But you didn't answer, so I gave it another shot and texted you... but then you didn't text me back or anything, so I started freaking out a little... I mean... I just wanted to make sure you were alright - so I came here before heading to the morning skate."
You let out a sigh as you listened to his words, a small wave of guilt washing over you to how concerned he’d been. "Shit... Willy, I'm really sorry... I was out with some girls, and then there were these guys making me really uncomfortable," you blurted out suddenly, feeling the need to explain.
"Shit what, hold on... what guys? Y/n are you alright?" he asked, a hint of panic creeping into his voice, feeling the guilt for not answering when you needed help.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine... everything sorted itself out," you reassured him, trying to keep calm. But before you could elaborate, Matthew emerged from your bedroom, throwing on his t-shirt from the night before.
And William's gaze immediately landed on him walking into the hallway. "Kniesy?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
"Hey Willy," Matthew replied softly, moving slightly behind you as he greeted his teammate.
"What are you... Did you sleep here..." William started to speak, but his words trailed off as he looked between you and his teammate. "I mean, that’s none of my business..." William shook his head as he processed the situation.
"Willy, no, Matt just stayed here after giving me a lift home," you explained, feeling another twinge of guilt for some reason. You weren't entirely sure why you cared so much about what William thought had happened, yet you sensed it had something to do with your still lingering feelings for him.
"Right, fair enough..." William tried to play it cool, yet he couldn't ignore the flicker of jealousy igniting within him. Though there was a fleeting temptation to punch his mate and teammate, he knew he had no grounds to be jealous. You weren't his to claim, and Matthew had only acted out of concern. So, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb as he collected his thoughts, he spoke again. "Well, uh, guess I'll catch you at practice then,” he nodded towards the younger player.
-
Nothing particularly dramatic went down at morning practice, but there was a bit of tension brewing between the Swede and the lad from Arizona that didn't escape notice.
Despite William making an effort to appear calm and collected about the events of the previous night, he couldn't quite shake the irritation he felt towards himself. He knew he had feelings for you, probably since the first time you spent several nights together, getting intimate in various ways. And as he was aware that he hadn't pursued anything further, he couldn't help but feel some regret now that he saw you moving on with someone else. And not just anyone else – his teammate and close friend.
His frustration was even clear during training, when he couldn't score the way he wanted to, so he knew it was getting to him more than it should. "Fuuuuuck," he muttered to himself after another failed attempt.
Meanwhile, Matthew was unsure how to act around his friend. Part of him wanted to explain himself, to tell William that he had feelings for you, and he didn't feel guilty about it. But the truth was, he did feel guilty. He knew you'd been with William first, and that William hadn't exactly ended things with you – it just sorts of fizzled out. So, he understood that there were still lingering feelings or something between you.
"Alright, that's it for today! See you all later for the game!" Coach Keefe announced, signalling the end of the morning training session.
The locker room was buzzing with anticipation for tonight's match. However, as the boys left one by one, leaving William as the last to finish up, Matthew, sitting just two stalls away, saw an opportunity to address whatever was going on.
"Hey," he approached gently, despite knowing William wasn't in the best mood after practice.
"What's up?"
"I, um... we're good, right?" the younger forward asked. "Like, you and me, we're good..."
William had a feeling of what Matthew was referring to, so as cool as he was, he just shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good, alright,” Matthew nodded.
“I mean, thanks, for… you know being there for y/n,” William then added with a gentle smile, trying his best to hide his complicated feelings still stirring within him.
“Of course, I mean when she called and said she wasn’t alright, it was the only thing I wanted to do…”
William nodded. “Right… yeah, that’s good…”
There was a brief moment of silence as the two boys just sat there and gently nodded in agreement.
“Willy, just to be sure… there’s nothing going on between you two, anymore, right?” Matthew stepped carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… let’s say, I want to make a move on her, ask her out, you know- you’ll be okay with it?”
Pouting his lips William pondered for a moment. Of course, he wouldn’t be okay with it. He still had feelings for you and if Matthew made a move on you, it would probably complicate things even further.
“Well, have you asked her out? I mean, is there like something official going on?”
“Uhm… no but, I guess I might want to… and I wouldn’t want you to be mad if you know she wants it too…”
“Ah… yeah alright…” William thought for a moment. The angel on his shoulder knew he could be the good guy here, admitting his wrongs, yet the devil on the other shoulder told him to play the game, and not give up. “But I mean if there’s nothing official between you… then I can still…. You know, take a shot.”
It was as if small competition was slowly forming. Something neither of the boys truly wanted, yet it started to seem inevitable.
“You want to take a shot?”
“Well, yeah maybe… I mean, I still like her.”
“Yeah, but you also said you didn’t want to date her – you dumped her, remember?”
“I didn’t dump her… I just… I wasn’t ready, alright… I am now, and I mean it’s not like anything has happened between you – it’s just a crush you can get over.”
Though Matthew knew that William had slept with you, and he hadn’t, he still knew that there was something between you and him.  “Well, something’s happened – we made out.”
“You kissed?” William froze a little. “When?”
“Last night… a lot actually…” It was his best card to play, but he knew it held significance.
William pondered again. So, he hadn’t just picked you up and driven you home. You’d invited him inside and made out before you let him sleep in your bed. Something William hadn’t done, as whenever the two of you had had sex, you hadn’t spent the night together.
“Hmm…” Was all he managed to reply, as he gazed into the thin air.
“I’m sorry Willy…. But I like her, and I really think she likes me too… so, maybe it’s best if you just… admit you blew your chance and step aside.”
Matthew felt bold as he spoke the words. He was confident that he had the upper hand, and that William was the fool who’d let you go too soon. Yet, there was one thing he hadn’t considered.
“You know…” William spoke softly, turning his eyes to Matthew. “Last night… before she called you… she called me first…” he let the word hang in the air for a few seconds before speaking again. “So, maybe I haven’t lost her completely… and I don’t think I can step aside… not without trying…”
The air felt heavy as Matthew realised that you might also still harbour feelings for William as well. It almost felt like a knife to the heart as he thought he’d have to fight one of his best friends to win you over, yet he couldn’t let it go. Not at this point. He’d fallen for you, and there was no escaping his feelings.
Meanwhile, William struggled with his own thoughts. Should he really back off and let Matthew go for it with you? Or should he try one last time, knowing that at least he tried to fight for you, and not just give you up that easily? And though he for a moment considered stepping aside, he just couldn’t do it. It wasn’t in his nature to give up. And given the fact that no other woman had ever made him feel the way you had, he wasn’t ready to let you go.
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softandsourcream · 7 months
Text
Stop, you’re losing me~ - two
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pairing: idol! yoongi x vet!f reader.
Words: 8,5k
genre(s): angst, hurt- comfort, slow burn, fluff, smut (+18) (not this one tho)
au(s): childhood friends - to lovers, idol yoongi, normal vet reader, entertainment industry, denial and resentment.
Episode warnings: complicated relationship with food, description of diseases, curse words, family drama, grief, loss of loved ones, damaged mental health, a LOT of struggling.
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IMPORTANT: this fic contains a lot of sensitive topics touched upon explicitly. Please, if any of the tags trigger something in you, stop reading. You are more important, and there is much more content you can consume here. Take care please! ♡
enjoy!
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main masterlist
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“Y/N, honey~”
Okay, wait. Here. It was from here where you remembered.
 
You were at home, in the bed that was almost yours. You cry just for that, under your sheets. Lucky you could remain silent; it was almost an empty cry at that point. Automatically, you were crying because that’s what you have to do.
You were exhausted. And you remembered having a bad feeling about all that situation.
“Not ready~”
“It's been a week.” Your mom closed the door, gently sitting on your bed and touching your back with a care that made you cry more. You were already drowning. “Did you think about a therapist yet?”
No. For a lot of things.
 
The first and most important is that you were already starting to improve a week ago. You haven't felt this miserable in months now, almost three. You had started to get up, eat better, and cry less. You talked, you walked, you wanted to laugh, to go out, to go back to work. Everything was fine. You didn't need a therapist.
Oh well, you did. At least you thought about going to one when you were already feeling better. You had the energy to want to be well and for this not to happen. Because the second was that now you didn't have the energy to try to lift yourself up in every way possible.
It was too heavy. But why. Why else would you have relapsed?
“How can you all be so… fine about it.” It wasn't retaliation, because everyone in that house was like that at the time, but you seemed to be the only one still there, and that frustrated you so much that it made things worse.
“We’re not.” You know. “We just know how to-“
“Live with the pain.” You end the sentence, revealing your face slowly to your mother. She looked tired and worried, but she still looked at you with love.
She brushed your hair out of your face, sighing and wiping away your tears softly. It was the only look of pity that you didn’t hate. You allowed it because you didn't have the heart to tell her that it bothered you. She was a mother; she couldn't help it.
“Your brother always told me to take care of you once he died.” She nodded, starting to cry. You haven't seen her cry in a long time. “He assured me that even if I were his mother, I would be able to understand it sooner and miss him differently than you. It's questionable, but that’s what he thought.” She took a breath, as if she had suddenly forgotten to breathe. What was he thinking when he said something like that to a mother? Many times you thought that Kija had no brains to boast about.
"'Don't let her die like this too.' " She quoted, “ ‘If I see her, whatever I end up to, I'm gonna hit her until she comes back to life." I’ll never forget how he told me that.” You smile a little. He also told you that in person days before.
“I've been remembering that non-stop all these months, but I realized that in the end, Y/N, I can't help you if you don't. Not because I don't want to; it's because I'm human, and I don't do miracles, honey.” You nodded like that didn’t hurt you, just because it was true. “I came here to let you know that we love you, we understand, and that if maybe I can’t do anything more for you, if you have a plan, I will always be here for you to help. It’s up to you from here, but you’re not alone.”
He prepared you for his death; everybody knows, what you were doing.
Why now. You were starting to make friends with the feeling that you were fine. You were in that stage of grief that isn’t too tragic.
What might have made you remember the loss as a thing in your life?
Of fucking course.
It took three days for you to use your little desire to continue like this and do something about it. Seun opened his eyes when he saw you entering the kitchen at breakfast, watching your movements cautiously.
“Where’s everybody.”
He blinks, chewing the cereal that was left in his mouth.
“All of them are in school; the rest of them are working.”
“What are you doing here, then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You still live at your parent's house without working? At 28?” He smiles. You were making fun of yourself as you said your age instead of his. He continued eating, calmer. “Embarrassing.”
“Guilty.” He says. “I needed the time, though. Things have been complicated lately.”
You looked at each other, and you thanked him for the gesture with your gaze, taking out a cup to make yourself some tea. Seun worked in Seoul. You didn't see him much, but he had been traveling home very often to see how everyone was doing in general after what happened, to see Jae too, and to be with his family more. Paradoxically, he was a lawyer, a very good and serious one, exaggeratedly contrary to what you were seeing right now, who wore a horrible duck shirt that he had worn as pajamas for as long as you can remember and always left at home, eating colored cereals in the bowl of one of your younger brothers.
When you went, nothing really belonged to you; all your things were already in your respective houses, but there was always room for you. Seun, being the second oldest, had left his room empty a long time ago, but he wore clothes that he had left in case he went.
Being there was like going back in time; you had taken your mother's clothes because you didn't go out much, and the ones you had there were no longer to your taste. The noises in the morning, hearing your mother sing from the kitchen, and seeing how they still danced together from time to time
It was nice.
You ended up eating the remains of yesterday's dinner with him at the inn, in silence. It was difficult for you to eat while like this; it was as if something in your chest prevented you from feeling any kind of human need. You left half the plate, and Seun after seeing that, took a breath.
“Eat that, and I’ll give you a prize.”
"Uh~ surprise me.”
You settled into the chair, ready to really listen to whatever it was. Seun was… you know.
“Dad asked me to take care of the garden outside.”
You frowned deeply, and you laughed because he was serious. “Great. Like when you were seventeen. I woke up with you complaining about it.” He made a face. “How would that be a prize?”
“It’s kind of fun, though. How about you come with me, hm? You don't have to do anything; eat that and just get some sun.
You didn’t eat it. But you go out still.
 
You didn’t even get dressed; you were still in pajamas, sitting on the grass, watching your brother cut leaves to shape bushes. Your father still took great care of that place; you could see that it was even better than before. He quite enjoyed it. You used to sit and look at him this way when you were younger.
“Didn’t know this could be emotional for you. You’re unbelievable.”
You laughed, wiping away your tears. It was stupid; you felt better, honestly.
“Sorry.”
“Sure.” He reached out to place a flower in your hair. It was small, white, the ones that fell from the tree that was right in the middle of everything. You smiled.
“How are you?”
“Better” you were, at least right now.
"Why did you get up today? What’s the occasion, hm?"
He walked away, beginning to pick up the remains on the floor. He was done.
“I just don’t want to feel terrible today.”
“Exiting.” He says this, stretching his back. “You know how hard it’s to force yourself to do that, kid? I am very happy to see you today. It's so brave of you. I'm serious.” It gave you a chill; you weren't used to hearing him talk like that. You simply nodded. “Here.” He gave you another flower; you play with it in your hands. “I'm going in to make lunch; are you coming with me? I can call you when it’s ready.
"No, I'm going to stay here."
Because it was quiet, you heard birds, and it didn't feel like your bed. You were a little desperate when your mother told you to go outside because you would feel better. The last thing you wanted was to get up, but you also hated that she was right.
You didn't open your eyes until you heard a noise that scared you, and it was almost bizarre to see Yoongi, standing with a garbage bag in his hand, looking at you without knowing what to do, giving all meaning to your search for triggers.
 
You blink. Maybe you were hallucinating.
 
Your gardens were together. His family hasn’t moved in all these years. The only thing you knew was that it was their property now, not like yours, which still rented the place. It had more floors than it used to, and instead of having old red wood walls like it used to, it was white and pretty. Yoongi had made sure that his family lived well. Many years ago, the house had been in constant repair; inside, it must have looked different too, but its patios still had no division.
Because they were neighbors, best friends, and family, sometimes they got together right there; why separate it? If they completely trusted each other, they could see each other more that way.
 
Why was Yoongi still in Daegu.
 
You couldn't find enough reasons for him to still be there. He must have been very busy doing his things, far, far from there, far from you.
And it was overwhelming to see him in that garden where you once saw him. It was difficult for you to make yourself believe that this person brought back that ugly feeling of looking like a lost cat.
You touch your chest.
He bowed. You had to cover the sun with one hand to be able to look at him better, and respond in the same way.
“You’re still here.” You say it quietly. 
Yoongi had those eyes, unkind ones. 
That and a sleepy look. He had always had them. If you hadn't known him since forever, you were sure that you would never have spoken to him, and if he did, you wouldn’t feel like speaking to him or maintaining any type of contact with him just because of his look. It was heavy, as if he was constantly having the worst time of his life, but by nature. His father had the same eyes and the same attitude; they communicated nothing with their expressions. At least that was what you knew—what you had stuck with.
But he looked at you in a way you didn't understand right now. That was one thing you didn't understand about the new Yoongi. Before, you used to catch him better because, although he expressed nothing with his eyes, you were the only one who could know how; you could read him in a certain way, and now he was just strange.
Softer. Almost warm but intimidating.
“Hm.” He didn’t move. “What are you doing, Park?" It was a mocking question, almost as if your brother had asked it, but with less emotion and coming from him, of course.
“Sunbathe.” You look dumb trying to look at him. The sun wouldn't let you. “It’s healthy from time to time," he tilted his head. “You need a little bit too. You’re too pale.”
He smirks, looking away, almost like taking the courage to ask. “Can I sit there, then?”
You analyzed the space with your eyes narrowed because you were trying to identify the natural division that existed between his patio and yours. Right on the floor, a few meters from you, there was a fairly thin cement line that divided the two spaces. You pointed your finger at it, moving a little closer so he could see it.
“Don't cross that line, and you'll be fine.”
Yoongi also squinted his eyes, looking at what could barely be seen on the ground. It took him a few seconds, but he managed to spot it and neutralize his gaze, lowering the hand he was using to block the sun coming from above. He snorted before approaching in silence.
You had forgotten what he looked like, and you wanted to say that during the day, with the sun on his face and casual, white clothes, he looked even better. He glows, and you want to punch him in the face.
“You don't fit in here anymore.” You said it simply. He leaned on his hands, leaning his body back, understanding that you didn't mean it with bad intentions. It was simply an observation, but he still didn't quite understand it.
“What do you mean?”
“Here, in Daegu.” He loses his eyes. “You look... expensive.”
You made him laugh unintentionally. Genuinely, he even sat properly so he could look at you. You were facing each other, a considerable distance away, divided by a line of asphalt covered by grass, but there it was.
“What?” That question makes you feel stupid.
“I don’t know, just- you look like you belong to another place. Too handsome and well dressed to be here.
“Ah~ handsome, huh?”
“Yes, Yoongi, too handsome.” It was a fact; he wasn’t stupid. He knows he’s attractive. You played with the flower between your fingers, feeling your heart begin to pound. You didn't even know why; you were sure he knew it wasn't his intention. You heard him laugh again. “You know what I mean.”
At least, you hope so.
“Maybe I don’t belong here anymore.” He says. When you looked up, he was playing with the grass between his fingers. “I don't feel welcome, either.”
“What are you doing here, then.”
He looked at you from there, raised his eyes for a few seconds, then closed them again. “I want to spend time with my family before enlisting. Hyung it’s going on his honeymoon in a few days, and... well, I'm running out of time.”
You had forgotten that.
You had to fight a lot not to ask when he was leaving, because it was two years, and although you hadn't seen him ten years ago, in a way you also had him constantly in your face, always. Now you wouldn't see him at all.
It was none of your business; why would you ask?
“That’s good.”
“You’re still living in he-?”
“Y/N, honey, hello. I thought you had returned to Busan since I didn't see you leave the house. You look tired; are you okay?”
You jumped for that.
“Hello, Mrs. Min. I’m, thank you.”
You had always been surprised by how intimidating that woman seemed to you and how much she loved you. She seemed more loving right now; maybe her age had made her softer, but in her younger days, every time she spoke to you, it was terrible for you. She always spoke to you as if she were making fun of you, with the most beautiful voice you had ever heard and the most studied words there were for a cordial conversation. Over time, you learned that it was genuine happiness, like right now.
“Then why-“
“Mom.” Yoongi stops her, and you realize.
You looked bad, perhaps unstable enough if it was at first glance. You did look tired; you hadn't slept well in months; you were still in your pajamas; and your hair was tied up. You hoped it wouldn't matter to you; you wish it were that way.
You had a flower on your head, at least.
“It's okay.” You told him, more for him than for her, and he looked at you, remaining silent for a few seconds. When you heard the woman's voice again, you were still sharing a look, surprisingly.
“Sorry. I was about to go to your house. I know your mom's working, but Seun it’s at home, isn’t he?” You finally looked at her and nodded, smiling slightly at her.
“Yeah.” It was weird, almost like she was checking to make sure you weren't alone. “Do you want me to leave her a message, Mrs. Min?”
“Oh no! It’s okay. I'll go tonight, but also," you take a deep breath. “It was just to invite you all to dinner tomorrow. Jae will be leaving in a few days, and the rest of his time will be spent with friends, so we can have dinner as a family.”
“I- don’t know. I’ll ask them-“
“I'm telling you, honey.” And you wish she didn’t. “Would you like to come? I know… You've had a tough time, and in the whole year you've been here, I've only seen you twice. We want to help.”
There it is. And just because you wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, you smiled slightly and nodded. You only had those types of reactions at the beginning, when the topic was mentioned. You hate to have them again now. It was directly a discomfort that made you want to sink into the ground because it made you cry instantly and peel off your skin in one go. It was extremely uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want. Just think about it, okay?”
You said your goodbyes; she kissed your forehead and left, leaving you two alone again in an awkward silence. Yoongi didn't have pity in his eyes now, but it was as if he had been reminded of something he had done wrong.
“I can tell them you couldn’t make it.”
“No need to.” You tore up the grass by a handful. Why did everyone think you couldn't do anything for yourself? “I will go. I miss your father's cooking.”
“Okay.” Another silence. “I’m sorry about that. She doesn't have any bad intentions; she cares. She doesn't even treat me the way she treats you."
You smiled a little, and for some reason, your heart started to beat less hard. Just as fast, but it didn't make you want to die. And you didn't like that.
“No problems.” You say, getting up. "It looks like I do fit in here anyway.” You shook yourself for nothing exactly; it was just to feel less uncomfortable as he watched your movements, and you looked at him as you walked to the entrance of your house. He had a lopsided smile, soft eyes, and the flower Seun had given you between his fingers. “you still have twenty minutes left.”
He smiled at you, knowing that you were running away. Still, he didn't stop you.
 
That was one. The next one was a little less exciting.
 
You weren’t an events' person.
Not because you felt too bad to attend social things; in fact, you had discovered that it was very efficient at not making you think too much. Being alone was the worst thing you could do, but you didn't like going. It felt almost like a charity event since Kija died; at least that's how it felt. Seun told you it wasn't like that at all, but you feel like it.
Like a charity object.
 
They give you extra food, extra attention, extra compliments, and the comfiest chair. And it was nice sometimes, but today you didn’t want that to happen.
"So... you want the red one or the purple one?” You held them both up, showing them to your sister in the mirror.
“What do you think?”
“I think… I like the purple one.” She didn't seem to like your decision, so you had to convince her. “ Look, it has flowers and sparkles inside. “You’ll look cool, don’t you think?”
“But it doesn't match my outfit~” Hyunji whines, and you smile, pushing away the purple hair tie to comb her hair into a ponytail again. You'd end up convincing her anyway.
“What do you mean? You have purple here.” On her shirt. It was yellow on its own, but it had purple bubbles, and even though the basic style doesn’t work like that, it seemed to make sense to her child's brain.
“You’re right… Okay!” She says, playing with her doll again.
Living with children always makes you wish life was that easy sometimes.
Hyunji has a twin too. It was because your father was a twin of another; the gene was there. They were the youngest in the family, and you had been combing their hair all year. It was complicated because every time they did it, they were together, and they reminded you of the dynamic you had had with Kija your whole life.
At that point, it didn't hurt you so much anymore. The first few times, it had been complicated for you to see, but now the other twin was in the other room, and she had no one else to talk to other than her doll. Nara, your other sister, enters the room.
“You’ll go?” You were dressed.
"Uh-hu,” you responded, checking that everything was in order in the mirror. 
“Yoongi will be there.”
"I know." You spoke with the purple garter between your teeth, so your voice came out funny. “Are you going?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Yoongi will be there.” She rolled her eyes as she turned to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub, leaning against the wall. You laughed softly.
“Not you too.”
Nara wasn't particularly a fan of his group, at least not at first. Since you hadn't been paying much attention, you didn't really know what the story was like, but apparently, she was starting to listen to them recently, and she genuinely didn't believe that this was the Yoongi she remembered. Now all her siblings were bothering her for refusing to do so.
“I didn’t know! Stop. It's almost overwhelming to see him leave the house sometimes. Last week, I met him twice! Here! In this town, Y/N! He looks like-“
“He doesn't belong in here.” You mumbled, and Nara nodded at you, wrinkling her nose. 
“Nothing good ever happens here; this is too much for me.”
And for you too. But you didn’t say that out loud.
“Go on, kid. Call your sister.” Hyunji thanked you and ran off to find the other twin. You stretched your back.
“Can you tell me what happened between you two?” You scoff, sorting out the chaos you had made to find the purple ribbon in the box your mother had for them.
“Why do you want to know? It’s not that exciting.”
“There's no way.” She got comfortable, almost as if emphasizing her words. “Everybody in this family knows it's something happening to him and you, but nobody asked because they say you stopped crying about it like yesterday.” You laughed at the exaggeration. "Tell me."
“Well.” You took Ara, the other girl who had already been talking about how she wanted her hair, to sit her in the chair that you had placed on the sink counter, so you could see them better. Your mother always did it, and you didn't understand why. It was too unsafe. "The same thing as your sister?”
"No! I want them... like this.” She held up two fingers to you, and you nodded, wetting his hair and carefully untangling it. Ara liked to wear her hair long, so it took you longer, and you were already starting to get tired.
“We were friends, best friends, and things ended. That's all."
It took a second for the teen to sigh and start complaining about how little information you had given her. But you didn't like to talk about it. Not because you couldn't, but because it was something you already had behind you, very far behind. You didn't feel like it was any use to you to talk to anyone about it.
“Did you two kiss at least?"
“Yeah, we did."
Now, she looks excited.
“So you two date!”
“No. We didn’t.”
“Hm, date, but didn’t formalize anything?”
“No.”
“Friends with benefits?”
 
“Hm~ no.”
 
“Fuckbuddys?”
“Jesus Nara. How old are you? Twelve?”
She rolled her eyes, briefly looking at her cell phone”
"Haha. Why are you responding like Seun now? Don't do that; we have more than enough with one.” You responded to something the youngest was telling you, and you handed her a jar of cotton balls that she was asking for. “And I'm seventeen. “So you can tell me if you two were only fu-”
"Well, she, right here it's seven, Nara. So don’t say that ever again.” You saw her grimace in the mirror. “And we were friends. Best friends. Friends don’t- yeah.”
At least that’s what he told you. That you were friends.
“Friends don’t kiss either.”
And you told him that, too.
“I know.”
“Hm.” It seemed as if she didn't want to ask more, perhaps knowing that with the background she had, nothing could end well.
“I’m okay, though. I don't see the need to talk about it now. Yes, I suffered a lot because of it, but that's it; things are the way they are now.”
You had even realized that being around him didn't affect you like you thought. On the day of your wedding, you were sensitive; you knew it; you were predisposed to have a bad time. Now that you are at home with your family, what could go wrong?
“Do you plan to go dressed like that, then?”
“Hm?” You looked at yourself in the mirror in front of you, starting your sister's last ponytail. “What's wrong with it?”
“You’re kidding? You’re literally using mom's clothes.”
Yes, but because yours doesn’t fit in with you like they used to.
“I think it's pretty.” You defend yourself, but not really, finishing your job and taking the creature down from the inn. You heard her say thank you as Nara took your arm. "What-“
“Y/N, I won't allow you to go see your celebrity-famous ex dressed like that, without makeup and wearing ladies' shoes. You even did your hair! Come here.”
“He’s not-“
“Yes, wherever.”
She ended up dressing you in your clothes. Nice clothes of yours that you haven't worn in a while, but they made you feel pretty. Then she tried to do your makeup herself, but you knew how to do it yourself, so you ended up giving in. Your mother scolded them because they were late, and Nara left home with a smile on her face.
 
And you look beautiful. Yoongi thinks that when he saw you enter the house with one tween in your arms and a baby blue cardigan on you,
Of course, you were wearing baby blue.
“Do you think Seun will hit me in the face tonight if he gets drunk enough?” Yoongi asked his brother, receiving the beer he offered him. They could stop by to say hello later. The Parks had always been a lot of people; they had time to greet their parents first. Eun snorts before Jae can say anything.
“He doesn’t have to get drunk for that. You’re currently hurting the two people who matter most to him just by your existence. What do you think will happen?"
He agreed with a gesture, opening the bottle and taking a long drink. Yoongi didn't really like beer, but he would need it today.
“Well, I think,” Jae emphasized himself, shoving another beer into Yoongi's chest for him to hold. He was pulling out some to offer, he assumed. “that you can always talk to them to make them understand. Just like you did with the two of us.”
Make them understand. The problem was that neither of you seemed open to listening, which was fine, but oh well.
Yoongi had taken it upon himself all those days to fix as much as he could in that stretch of time. He had a different way of thinking and handling things, and he was too old to have unresolved issues. He didn't know if it was because he had time before he left or because Daegu and his house, his parents, and the streets where he walked for so long, dragging a useless dream, brought his emotions to the surface.
With you, it was different because he saw you, and it was difficult for him to remember all that he did wrong.
He had been thinking. Enough to have him overwhelmed in so few days, and while apologizing to Eun, for example, for having been so absent in her and her brother's lives, or to his parents, for... exactly the same thing, he saw you, and he knew that it wasn't just him who had to ask for forgiveness.
“They’re good at listening and apologizing for things they have done before. You're a lucky bastard to have to apologize to the most understanding people on earth.”
Eun had found it difficult to forgive him. She spent maybe a week talking to him, thinking about it, talking about it with Jae, and coming to the conclusion that, in fact, he had changed a lot and had given him an opportunity that he was sure he could fulfill. Yoongi was genuinely in another stage of his life, but having things to take care of was exhausting.
He realized more things that night at dinner as well. He didn't know the youngest members of the family, but they turned out to be quite shy compared to all of you, and talking to your family in general was quite easy. Not only that, but he didn't feel strange, out of place, or treated differently for who he was now; catching up with your parents and siblings was nice. Yoongi felt good”
“I would love to, Mr. Park, but I um, I return to Seoul tomorrow. I have commitments there before I leave for service.”
Nara had her birthday in a few days, and they were going to throw her a party. They were inviting Yoongi. He didn't know why his throat hurt from saying no lately. He was never a complacent person.
“Tomorrow? That soon? Will you enlist soon?”
It was impressive how those had been the first words Seun had spoken to Yoongi all night.
“No, it’s- not about that. I have work stuff. recording and practice.”
After that, he started answering questions about his life, which wasn't necessarily a bother. It was okay; he knew your family didn't have bad intentions either. He noticed it.
He also noticed that you barely touched your food.
“Can we talk?” You asked him when you were clearing up the dishes in the kitchen. ‘Sure’ and you took him outside because there was too much noise inside.
"So... you return to Seoul tomorrow."
You look disturbed, but he doesn’t hurry you.
“Hm.” He responded in affirmation. “My last concert is soon, and I have things to take care of before that.”
“Awesome.” 
You look untouched by the situation. By everything. As if you were there by protocol. You hadn't laughed genuinely all night; you just smiled and responded kindly, briefly at that, knowing how much you liked to talk.
He didn't want to say that it had to affect you, but it was as if you had no reaction in your body. Quite the opposite of when he saw you at marriage, where you were with all your feelings on the surface. And he was worried. He has no right to be, though.
“I thought you missed my father’s food.” He tries, and you look confused at him.
“I did it.”
“You barely touch it.”
“Well, that’s none of your business.”
Oh, well.
You covered your face. Yoongi heard you sigh.
“Sorry.” You say.
He nodded, calm. At least trying.
“Didn’t mean to be disrespectful, either. It’s okay.”
Then he waited.
Enough. It was almost ten minutes of pure silence in which you thought about what you would say, and he smoked because you made him nervous and made him want to be doing anything but being aware that you were there.
"Okay," you say. Your words sounded loose. As if you were complaining about something. “Before seeing you that day, at the wedding," you start. “I was fine. I was feeling okay. I was- eating very well, I was starting to go out more, and I had this... silly feeling in my chest that maybe this situation wouldn't mean the end of my days, my life, and that I could do things by myself.”
Yoongi settled back in his place, attentive. It was just that he didn't understand, but he wanted to.
“I knew you would be there.”
“Yeah. Jae, he mentioned something to me.” After the weeding, of course. He would’ve liked to know that, too.
“Yes. So I mentally prepared myself for that, to see you, because it affects me to do so, and I thought I had handled it well that day. It didn't add up to me, because I spent weeks thinking about it and preparing myself for things that didn't happen and would have made everything much worse. I felt bad again, and I started to think a lot about... everything. About Kidja's death and what would happen to me without him in my life. It wasn't even about you. I had gone back to my beginning of grief, Yoongi. And I didn't understand why all the effort I had made to be well was gone so suddenly.”
He blinks. A lot of times.
“I’m- not understanding.“
“I have this theory.” Okay. “When you left, I had this same reaction. I don't really want to compare them because they are different in very big ways, but it reminded me of a lot of things, and seeing you there... I wanted to ask you not to leave. Not again, not like everyone has done it recently, so I can feel better.” His heart was a mess; this information was too much. “And it's stupid, because I don't know you, and I can't trust you, and the fact that you're here does me any good.”
“Y/N.” He insisted.
“I just want to put an end to this.” He could swear you were shaking. “Forever.”
Yoongi's head was going very fast; he felt somewhere else, something surreal. He had lived peacefully for a long time; his heart almost burst out when he heard you say a few more things, like you didn't blame him for anything, but you needed to know that he wouldn't be there anymore, and when you wished him a good life, he went a little crazy because you were leaving.
“Wait!” He was in a rush for some reason. “Just like that? May I… apologize for everything at least?”
He saw how many things went through your head, and he was desperate not to be able to know what. You took your distance before you talked.
“Yoongi, I don’t care.”
Now he was mad. You were acting like a child; resentment was speaking for you. He didn't blame you, at least not entirely, because he knew you were smarter than this. You had more valid, more accurate, and even stronger answers, but you were deciding to run away.
That wasn't what really bothered Yoongi, but the fact that you didn't tell him directly, like you would.
“If you want to live, then do it. But give me a voice too; I'm involved too.”
You snorted and crossed your arms to look at him with a smile on your face.
His blood boiled.
“You know what? Forget it. Have a good night.”
“Oh fantastic.” You move fast, getting closer to his garden but staying on the other side of the small line that divides it. Yoongi stopped, now not willing to listen to anything, nor to say anything constructive, really. “So you’re mad now?”
“It’s just—you're so stubborn! I’m trying to do something here!”
“And what do you want me to do, Yoongi?! Hug you and dry your fucking celebrity tears and tell you that the fact that you broke my heart like it wasn’t a big deal was okay? Oh, so now you want to be involved. You’re living tomorrow! And you want to fix things now? Shut up. You’re doing the exact same thing you did when you left.”
Your voice broke off as you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes.
“We both did things wrong; I just wanted to talk about it before… that's all.”
“Everyone suddenly wants to talk about it.” It wasn't cold outside. Daegu wasn't a cold place, but you hugged yourself and cringed as if it were. “Everyone asks me what happened between us and why we stopped talking. Your father apologized to me in your place today too; he told me that whatever happened, he hoped we could fix it.”
Yes, I had told him that too, since it happened years ago, honestly.
“But I don't see any sense in it. Why talk about something that is already broken? Why do you insist? I just want to close this, okay? It was already dead; leave it like this.”
Yoongi took a moment, because it was true. But you look too real in front of him, and that makes him weak.
“So we can heal, can't we? That’s why you are doing this.” Your eyes look at him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had no choice.”
"Yes, you did.” You cut him off. “Do things right, or do things wrong. Those were your options. And you chose.”
Because you had always understood that he was leaving and that Yoongi had bigger things to do outside that place, and you were happy about that, but he didn't tell you until one day before he left forever.
He was completely blinded by having signed recently, by having an opportunity, by doing what he liked, and by the promises that were being made to him. Leaving everything behind, his parents, who did not believe in him, his "friends” who constantly told him that he would not make it, in that place that hurt him so much only excited him.
And unfortunately, you found yourself involved just by being part of that place.
“I know. And I’m really sorry.” You closed your eyes, and you denied it slightly. As if you didn't want to hear those words. “I understand that I made a mistake back then; I was young and dumb, and I- didn’t- I’m not the same person right now. I’m really sorry. I mean it.” 
So... insignificant.
“Why.” And that was the question he didn’t want to hear. “So you can feel better about yourself, or because you're doing me a favor? Why now, Yoongi. If you hadn't seen me that day at the wedding, would you have traveled all the way here just to apologize before you left?”
No. The answer was no.
It wasn't something Yoongi thought about much. In all those years, he had convinced himself that he had done what he had done because sometimes in life, you have to be selfish to prioritize your well-being as a person. To put himself first over others because he had a dream, and fulfilling it meant sacrifices.
He hadn't done anything wrong, you know?
Now he apologized only because he saw you sick, and he felt guilty because he knew that it had affected you more than him. He was stupid because he blindly believed that the fact that he apologized would mean something less in your life, even if he didn't know how important you were to the whole thing itself. And you were sad and depressed, and you had big dark circles in your eyes, and you weren't eating well. You didn't really smile, you had a hard time getting up, and he hadn't seen you leave the house even once in all the time you had been there.
 
He felt responsible.
 
He did it because it left him and only him clean. He was being selfish.
He kept quiet. He wouldn't admit it out loud. 
“I spent nine years of my life on pause waiting for you to care enough to come back to this damn city, so we could fix things. To talk about it. But that was nine years ago, and it’s a little too late right now.”
"I'm,” he stops, getting close to you, pressing his words in his throat so as not to have to raise his voice. “apologizing.”
“Well, you’re not forgiven.” He tense.
“For something I made when I was a teen? I don’t know, but you made some dumb shit back then too.
You kept quiet about that. It was true.
“You don’t seem to mind too much, though.”
“And what do you know about how I feel?”
Because maybe the fact that it didn't stop his life completely was something, but ignoring it didn't mean that it didn't hurt him either.
“Nothing.” A whisper. “I just- I don’t know, okay? But that stupid thing you did as a teen still hurts me and haunts me to this day, and you- I continued to believe that you would have the decency to come to my twin’s funeral. it’s- all that, everything, that’s just my fault.” You firmly acknowledged it. “But I would’ve to be so stupid to believe that you are still that person, because people change, and we were very young, and that’s fine, but Yoongi.” You touch his chest, or at least you had the intention because you didn't get to do it. You stopped and backed away a little. “The problem here is that you still don't care enough. You didn't even want to come here of your own free will... And that's fine, but don't come and- try to talk to me as if that were the case. 
Your eyes soften, and so do Yoongi’s, because you do that when you want to cry.
When you cry, you’re completely harmless; that’s what he knows. If you cry out of anger, happiness, or even just empathy, any emotion automatically transforms into sadness. You leave yourself vulnerable; that's why you didn't allow it in arguments; it was losing instantly. 
So you put yourself back together. 
“That's fucked up, Min, and I don't need to forgive you to live in peace; I don’t want this; I don’t need your apologies; I don’t want to have any kind of contact with you because I don’t want you in my life anymore.”
“Then why are you still here?"
He can smell your perfume from how close you two are to each other now.
 
So he realizes.
 
It was difficult for him to have you so close. Because he felt the heat of your body, and your breathing was agitated. He remembered the touch from when he touched you at the wedding and squeezed his hand so as not to claim it again. His eyes traveled to your lips accidentally, twice trying to stop them without success, nor to his body as he moved forward, seeking to kiss you directly. He stops himself with all the strength he had and a little more, but you didn't move either.
You were both too dazed, feeling the tension in the air. As Yoongi looked at your lips again, this time closer to you, as you licked yours, trying to feel something. He breathed hard, like a bull, feeling almost dizzy. Yoongi had never wanted something so much in his life, and you weren't helping.
You looked down too, raising big eyes to the level of his before whispering, ever so slightly, to answer his question, and Yoongi couldn't believe you existed, looking like this.
He was fucked up.
“I still have a lot of appreciation for you, Yoongi.” You say. “And I respect you enough to do things right.” He closes his eyes when you distance yourself. There was nothing more to do. “I'm still here, but doing all this, doing things you don't want to do, lying to yourself, lying to me?... you're losing me.” 
His eyes were wide open. You looked at him with sadness because you were crying. 
“Leave it as it is, and keep the small part of me you still have with you. Because if you keep trying, I’m gone.” 
And maybe that was what you both needed. A closure, a proper goodbye.
 
The problem was that neither of you had said goodbye, technically.
-
Big big brother, lovely and always available, Seun 💪🏻 - 1:32
‘How is it?’
‘Spooky?’
1:40
‘u’re allergic to dust, kid. You need a hand? 👋🏻👋🏻’
There were so many things you regretted in life.
One of them was to regain the closeness you had with Seun having so many brothers to choose from. Because he was sweet, yes. Maybe if you didn't have him there (knowing that you often live in fear of losing the people you love, it was very clear to you), you would miss him a lot, but he could be very annoying at times.
Don't judge yourself by the contact name by the way. He had set himself up that way, and every time you tried to change him, he found a way to make it longer.
You - 1:41
‘Sure, want you here in ten minutes.’
Big big brother, lovely and always available, Seun 💪🏻 - 1:43
‘Don't tempt meee’
‘You know I’m crazy, right?’
You stopped him immediately, telling him that you were fine, that everything looked fine, and that he shouldn't worry.
It was a two-hour trip. And it wasn't a lie that you were okay.
Moving to Busan was your idea; maybe two years before Kija relapsed and got sick, he wouldn't stop getting worse. He followed you with nothing in mind because, unlike you, he hadn’t been able to study anything. His health was weak, and that weakened his mind as well.
You wanted to get him out of that mentality, to meet people, to go out, and perhaps to look for a job that would help him understand that he could do things well. And you did it, or, well, he did. You didn't see much of the many people he had plans with; he worked in a café near your apartment that was still there; they had even remodeled it. He had a boyfriend, money; you two were together, you always laughed.
It was when you began to set up your clinic (because that was what you had gone to Busan for, aside) in the city that he began to cough very lightly, almost like a cold, and when you took him to see the place where you would start to build your first dream, he passed out at night when they were trying to clean the place. After that, he didn't stop coughing until that same cough took his breath away completely.
You thought he would get better, he looked weak but fine. He talked, he ate, and he didn't sleep as much as he does when he gets that sick. The only thing that told you that he was really struggling was the blood in his cough and that sometimes, when he got up to go to the bathroom, he would call you out of breath because just getting out of bed was too much for him. He was in serious condition, but you didn't think you would have him with you for so little time.
“Open that thing, Y/N. You have everything you need. You’re smart, you’re pretty, and your lungs work wonderfully. Sorry you don’t have any excuses.”
He spent the last days of his life there, in that apartment that you didn't want to return to, because now your whole family wasn't sleeping on the floor, nor was your mother's voice singing to him while everyone was sleeping, and he couldn't do it because the pain was killing him slowly, nor was your father offering you help to open that damn clinic.
Kija died two days before opening it, and he swore he would be there when you did. You believed him.
The door to his room was closed now. When you came into the apartment, it smelled musty, and there were many letters on the floor that were passed under the door while you were gone. His shoes were on the shoe rack at the entrance; your mother must have forgotten them when she cleaned, so you sat there when you arrived; you weren't ready.
It was when Seun spoke to you that you decided to enter the things you were missing.
And you clean the place. You dusted, packed your things, and called the clinic to inform that you were going to return to work that week. You were the boss anyway.
Maybe it was you deceiving yourself, but the more you looked for discomfort within yourself, you couldn't find it. You thought that facing that place would be more complicated, but there you were.
In Busan, and in Busan you didn't want to die.
“I trust him.” Kija could barely speak; he was intubated and medicated, sitting right where you were now, waiting for the medication to completely wear off.
You had stopped talking about it hours ago, that was when you understood that your confession had been hanging around in his head.
‘I have been thinking about Yoongi lately. I think I'll- need him when you’re gone.’
“Text him.” He told you.
You had already told him it was impossible. You had even told him possibilities of a schedule of imaginary activities that he would have at that moment.
“Kija, forget it.”
“I trust him.” He repeated. “He’ll come. He cares about you still, I know.”
You had believed him, and you had smiled slightly at the thought of a possibility.
Now you’re disappointed. It was dimly lit, it was starting to get cold, and your hands covered your face because, wrapped in, now, a gray room, you were giving Yoongi tears for the first time in years.
And Yoongi's tears were different from Kija's. They felt old, meaningless, but they weren’t automatic.
You sob, because maybe this way you could do this the last time you cry about it.
—————————•。・. ゜・。_______________
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